Kaleidoscope
by Foxtail-Padfoot
Summary: The scintillating sequel to the story Revelations. Tony and Ziva are destined to come together, but will it be Tiva like we hope? Or something more deadly? Rated T for mild suggestion/language. McAbby, Tiva, NCIS "family". COMPLETE
1. Green Eyes

KALEIDOSCOPE!!!!

**A/N: So, I have decided to put out a sequel. But, if you rather otherwise… Tough. And a major change! Chapter titles! **

**And disclaimer: I'm not CBS. Thanks if you think my writing is good enough, though. Also I own no references. Or Nyquil. All I own is a lot of books and a TV. The movie in this chapter is ****The Day the Earth Stood Still****.**

**Sorry this one is a tad short word length wise, and sorry I am taking it up with an author's note.**

Ch1. Green Eyes

_Green eyes…_

****

Ziva leaned against the wall of the elevator, her breath coming in short bursts. She still held his photo in her hand. She glanced at the offending photograph for a moment, then tossed it down in frustration.

Why, oh WHY, had she accepted the hit?

Just two weeks ago, she had told Tony how she felt. And now she had agreed to…

Kill him!

Why?

Why?

Why…

…why…

But she was. No use arguing; otherwise she could never return to Israel.

_The question is,_ she pondered, _will I be able to cope? After I place a bullet through his skull?_

And did her father know how she felt? Certainly he knew Tony's masochistic self-sacrificing side. Certainly he knew Tony cared.

Which was why Ziva made the perfect person to eliminate him.

**** Tony's apartment

Tony took a huge bite of the pepperoni pizza, relishing the ooey goodness. After a moment of chewing: "Thanks for doing this with me, Tim. I miss her, but it might be better soon."

McGee nodded. At least Tony used his first name now. Actually, he was starting to miss Tony's old obnoxious nicknames. "The least I can do for you is watch movies, Tony."

Ziva's staying was not so bad, now. Sure everyone missed her, but the team's wounds were healing.

The two men sat silently, watching Keanu Reeves do his alien thing.

"So… you and Abby again, huh? I mean, nothing official, but you went on a real date last weekend?" Tony asked, right after the semi got eaten by robot bugs.

"Yep," McGee replied, glancing at his friend a bit nervously.

"That's really good. You guys are good." Tony avoided Tim's gaze, the longing on his face apparent.

McGee wasn't sure if he should tell Tony what he would say next, but he wanted to keep Tony's trust. The man needed a friend.

"I'm going to propose to her."

Tony glanced over. "After just one date since you got back together?"

"Uh… Yeah, I think."

"Oh yeah? You should. Nice restaurant, science fair, maybe… a romantic evening on the roof of your building, McGregor?" Tony was half playful, half serious.

Tim grinned. "Something like that." He fingered the velvet box that stayed always in his pocket.

"I'm sure she'll say yes," Tony said, turning back to the bad remake.

"The original was better," Tim commented, the lights of the movie flicking over his and Tony's faces.

"Much better," Tony murmured, not thinking about the movie at all.

**** Israel

Ziva would take her time. She wanted to put this off, not prolong the moment, so she packed her Sig.

A single shot to the head, he would feel nothing.

Not that she would know, never having experienced it herself.

God, what had she gotten herself into?

Ohhh…

She packed a few things for nostalgia's sake, for her own peace of mind.

Her green dress from her time as Sophie.

Her black bikini, of which the pictures with her in it were so popular among male NCIS special agents.

A few other things she shared some joke about with him.

Oh-h-h…

Ziva wasn't so sure about bringing the Sig.

Maybe… she could find a way to leave it?

The Director would know. He always knew.

Maybe she could leave Mossad?

Then Tony would still die.

Maybe's floated through her head, all to be shot down by that cursed voice of reason in her mind.

Oh, Tony!

She gripped her cell phone.

That, maybe she should leave.

But maybe not?

Finally, after several moments of inner turmoil, Ziva slipped the device into a pocket of her blue jeans.

With a sigh, she closed the suitcase.

****

A mist surrounded Ziva, thick like stew.

_Soup,_ she heard him chide.

Ziva whipped around, trying to find him.

_Tony?_

"Ziva, shoot me." He appeared as she had last seen him. Bruised, beaten, shirtless, bandaged.

She stared down, startled to find the cold Sig in her hand.

"Shoot me." His arms were outstretched, beckoning.

Her big brown eyes widened.

Tony's cool green ones stared back.

Ziva's fingers tightened around the gun.

"Ziva, won't you kill me?" He was standing behind her now, his right arm running up and down hers.

His lips brushed her ear.

"I killed Michael. I placed four rounds in his chest. He _died_, Ziva. Don't you want revenge?"

He laughed.

"Shoot me."

The dream Tony turned her around, pulling her to him. He kissed her lips almost, avoiding any actual contact, and pulled her gun-holding hand to his chest.

"If I were Mossad, I would be dead all ready. Pull the trigger, Ziva. You want to.

"Shoot me, Ziva.

"Ziva!"

"ZIVA!"

****

The voice became that of Officer Hadar, calling her into wakefulness.

Ziva sat up, anxious, aware of the sweat pouring from her tense body.

"I shall shower, then you may take me to the airport," she murmured in Hebrew, brushing past Hadar as she exited.

Ziva did not let herself sleep on the flight.

****

She stepped into the replacement apartment, setting up the Embassy supplied surveillance equipment.

Ziva would like to place the cameras tomorrow; today, she would sink into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The Israeli woman stepped into the restroom, pulling two Nyquil from her bag and uncapping a bottle of water.

She swallowed the pills. It was a trick she had learned from Tony, to help her sleep after unsettling cases.

Soon rest claimed her, leaving her stretched out across the bed and snoring gently.


	2. Real Father

Kaleidoscope

**A/N: Hey thanks for the reviews! Keep it up, guys! Review with your favorite lines! And sorry for this one's shortness, but it flows better like this for my plot.**

Ch2: Real Father

Ziva knelt before the cameras, adjusting angles so she got the most perception of Tony's life.

She would do personal stakeout from her apartment, which was on the same floor as Tony's and directly across the street, and would use cameras for monitoring those places she would be more easily seen- NCIS headquarters she avoided all together, since many knew her there and the navy yard was well guarded.

As Ziva placed a camera on the light post across from Gibbs' house once he had left for the navy yard, she felt another twinge of regret.

Gibbs was like a father to her. A real father, not cold and emotionless like the Director.

She had lied to him. Big minute. Many times. Firstly, she had shot Ari, her own half-brother. Ziva had let Gibbs believe it was for the NCIS team.

Would that it was!

Rather, Ziva had pulled the trigger on her father's orders.

Just like she would in two weeks' time, after the target's routine was established and plans for attack were finalized.

Two weeks was a long time. Maybe… Maybe she could back out. Not go through with it.

Dream Tony's words still rang through her head.

"_Shoot me, Ziva David."_

And every time she heard them, she was scared.


	3. Risky Business

Kaleidoscope

**A/N: OMG, thank you so much for the feedback! Keep it up and I keep posting chapters! And thanks for checking out this fic, 'cause as a result the traffic on Revelations has spiked as well!**

**Oh, and tell me if you got my dog reference.**

**: )**

Ch3. Risky Business

Tony bounced through the halls, a cup of his favorite coffee perched precariously atop his head. "Oh man, I think I'll make it, Tim!"

McGee followed, a look of amusement on his face. "I can_not_ believe you agreed to bunny hop from your car to your desk with a cup of coffee on your head."

Tony laughed once he reached his desk. "Nothing to it! Plus, now you have to buy me lunch!"

He hollered when Gibbs' hand connected to the back of his head, but somehow the senior field agent managed to catch his coffee before it spilled all over him.

"Sorry, Boss. Just, um… agility training," Tony lied.

"For treats? Don't forget to touch the yellow zone on the way down the A-frame, DiNozzo." Gibbs smiled at his agent's antics.

"Right, Boss. Will do."

Abby came up to the bull pen, throwing a crumpled ball of paper at Tony's head. "You're unusually chipper this morning, Tony."

"Well, I had a good time last night!"

The other agents looked up, curious. "What kind of a good time?" McGee inquired.

Tony flashed that famous DiNozzo smile. "I watched _Risky Business_ with some frat brothers, then we reenacted a few scenes."

His grin broadened as he watched Gibbs' and Tim's faces pucker.

"I actually watched that movie, DiNozzo. Now the mental pictures tell me I shouldn't have," Gibbs remarked.

Right on its usual cue, the phone on Jethro's desk rang.

Gibbs answered. His face shadowed, and he slammed down the phone.

"Roll," he commanded as he stormed from the building.

Tony and McGee grabbed their bags, and the team was off.

****

"Female vic. Around your age," the Leo said, pointing to McGee. "Burns, but she had a pulse so we shipped her off to the hospital. She had an NCIS ballcap, so we called you guys. Know her?"

Tony, who had been examining the wasted apartment so close to his own- how had he not seen the flames? - looked over now to the photo the LEO was holding. He drew in his breath sharply.

Agent Gibbs nodded. "We'll take her."

Tony's brow furrowed as he stared at the picture of a hurt, almost unrecognizable Ziva David.

The LEOs cleared out, and Gibbs turned to his agents. "McGee, go to the hospital and check on her status. DiNozzo." Gibbs paused for a brief moment. "Photograph, bag and tag."

McGee saw his friend's face fall, and glanced around at the technical equipment.

"All due respect, sir, but I think you'll need me here," he said quietly, eyes on Gibbs. Tony's eyes lit up, and he smiled gratefully to Tim.

Gibbs glanced between the partners, and finally nodded shortly. Then he smacked both their heads.

****

Tony leaned in the doorframe, watching his bandaged ninja sleep. She looked bad, burned on her neck, arms, and- well- just about everywhere. Her hair had been cropped short, to the shoulders, so the tips must have burned as well in the fire.

He saw her eyes flicker, and Tony slipped in to stand at the foot of her bed when those brown eyes opened.

****

Ziva didn't know what had happened. One moment she was asleep, the next she heard the bleep of machines and felt that all-too-familiar hospital sensation.

Her eyes flashed open, and she saw a familiar face standing before her. Ziva's hand jerked to where her handgun would normally be, but of course, it was not.

Tony's eyes darkened when he recognized the motion. He cleared his throat, obviously feeling a bit awkward.

"Why are you here, Zi?" he murmured, almost too low for her to hear.

She answered harshly. "I do not know, Tony. Enlighten me."

"Apartment caught fire. But I meant, why are you in the country, not why are you in here." Tony rubbed the back of his neck, nervous.

Ziva's breath caught in her throat. It was now or never, to fess up, to tell Tony everything. Would she?

No. Not now. She did not think she could bear to see the pain on his face, the betrayal.

Fortunately, the brunette was saved from answering by a call on Tony's cell phone.

"yeah, Boss.

"Ziva's awake. She looks like-

"No, I haven't really been able to talk to her yet.

"On my way."

_Click._

He glanced down at Ziva, something in his eyes- sorrow? "I _will_ be back, sweet cheeks. You can count on it."

Ziva watched him walk out. She then picked up her in-room telephone.

"Shalom," she breathed.

"Daughter, what is it?" The Director replied to her in Hebrew.

"The mission has been compromised. My apartment set on fire, somehow, and NCIS is investigating."

Eli sighed. "How did NCIS find out about it?"

Ziva winced. "The hat I had was still in my bag. The police called Gibbs because of it."

"Oh, my daughter… I shall arrange records to explain your presence. Do nothing, say nothing, until I call again."

_Click_.

Ziva set down the phone, her face thoughtful and blank.

**** NCIS

Tony walked into the bullpen, confusion and frustration clear on his face. "You rang, Boss."

He blinked and stepped back when a steaming Gibbs thrust the evidence bag in his face.

There was a slip of paper inside. The note read, "You will be next."

His brow darkened, and his green eyes flicked up to Gibbs. "Where…"

"The door to your apartment. I checked it out while McGee was at the crime scene. Proximity and all." Gibbs' steely blue eyes were… steely… as he glared at Tony.

"Who? Any suspects?" Both to the note, and Ziva's apartment.

"McGee determined the fire to have originated by a cut gas main. So far, the suspect list that applies to both of you is still as long as a carrier ship, but we still have a main suspect." Gibbs barked a laugh.

"Who?"

Tony's stomach sank when Gibbs' surly face got even surlier. "Michael Rivkin's little brother, Samuel."

DiNozzo nodded, feeling rather dead all ready. He ran to Tim's desk, sliding to a halt. "Tim, look up Rivkin's brother."

McGee nodded without looking up. Rapidly, he pulled up the information he had been working on. "I all ready have."

Tony pushed McGee's chair out of the way, leaning before Tim's touch-screen monitor.

…

**SAMUEL RIVKIN**

HEIGHT: 5'9"

WEIGHT: 160 lbs

EYE COLOR: BROWN

AGE: 32

NATIONALITY: ISRAELI

FAMILY: PARENTS DECEASED, BROTHER KILLED BY NCIS SPECIAL AGENT ANTHONY DINOZZO

EMPLOYMENT: UNKNOWN

THREAT LEVEL: UNKNOWN

LAST KNOWN LOCATION: WASHINGTON, DC

…

"Can we bring him in?" Tony asked, looking to Gibbs.

"Sure. _I_ will," Gibbs replied. "You look up why Ziva's here. McGee, see if Abby needs any help."

Tony stared as Gibbs and McGee left, leaving the agent at Tim's desk. He returned to his own desk, turning his emerald green eyes to the keyboard. Then, he began tapping out search parameters.

_Odd…_ The search was taking some time.

After a minute or two, the only documents for Ziva David were all the NCIS- related files of the past few years.

Eventually, two more files popped up. A visa and an Embassy file.

She'd been in the country for two days now. She had a work visa. Her work was something at the Embassy. That was it.

Mossad business. Under wraps. Secret. Not for the US's eyes.

Of course.

Lunch, then his ninja.

Maybe Ziva would tell him.


	4. Spit It Out

Kaleidoscope

**A/N: So, this is my early birthday present to me! Tomorrow is my birthday! Yay! And I was going to wait until tomorrow to post this but I couldn't! And sorry for shortness. =/ 'Cause it's, like, really short compared with Revelations chapters. Except for chapter nine.**

Ch4. Spit It Out

Tim looked over the information Tony had pulled on Ziva. Something did not seem right.

McGee pulled up the Embassy records, sifting through the limited information.

There it was- the log date. Both the visa and the work papers had been entered into the system just after Tony's visit to Ziva.

_What are you hiding, Ziva?_

He beckoned Abby over just as the Goth stepped out of the elevator. "Abby, look at something for me."

Abby rushed over, pulling Tony's chair to Tim's desk and pushing McGee out of the way.

"What's wrong, Timmy?"

"Does that look right to you?"

Her face scrunched as she glanced over the information. Visa, Embassy papers… "No, not at all, Tim."

She sighed, punching a few codes on the keyboard. "I mean, look at this! It's very rare I see documents faked so sloppily!"

Now it was McGee's turn to look confused.

"Abby, what are you saying?"

"Oh come on Timmy, don't say you don't know. The clandestine visit, the electronics! I mean, barely a month ago Tony and Ziva were… well… sort of professing their love for the other! Now she shows up with shabbily and hastily faked papers, and tells no one she's here? It's been two days, and there's been _nothing_. Plus, she's right across the street from Tony's apartment!"

Abby paused, drawing in her breath.

McGee's face cleared and immediately fell into shadow.

"It's a hit," he whispered.

The forensic scientist nodded shortly, fingers drumming nervously on McGee's desk.

"Oh, no," she hissed.

Their heads whipped around to face each other, noses touching.

"I gotta call Gibbs!" Tim snapped his phone up, punching buttons furiously.

Abby tapped at the computer, trying to draw out more information on Ziva's "job".

"Gibbs?" McGee whispered.

"Why are you whispering, McGee?"

"Uh… I'm not sure, Boss," he replied, raising his voice to normal.

"Why'd you call?"

"Uh, Boss…"

"SPIT IT OUT, MCGEE!"

"Ziva's here on a hit. Tony," Tim gushed.

_Click._

****

Gibbs stormed into the hospital, completely bypassing the protesting nurses.

The convalescing assassin sat up straight when her patriarch of four years thundered into her hospital room.

Gibbs took in her bandages and burn cream, and his face softened for a moment.

"You look like hell, David."

"Thank you, Gibbs," the Israeli replied drily.

His face steeled again. Ziva sensed his anger, and her own body tensed in response.

"Killing a federal agent is a crime, David."

"I am aware."

"Then why are you planning to?"

Ziva froze, her mouth gaping.

The Director's papers had not held up, after all.

Her almond eyes narrowed after a moment.

"That is not my mission here, Agent Gibbs."

"Don't lie to me, Ziva," Gibbs said softly. "Tony taught you to feel… I can read your lies."

Ziva sighed. "Do not think, do not believe! Do not believe I could ever pull a trigger on Tony."

She kept her voice low, trying to make herself believe.

Maybe then, she would not do it.

"I don't know _what_ to believe anymore!" Gibbs snarled, voice rising.

Ziva flinched.

"I _trusted_ you, Ziva! I put my _life_ into your hands!"

She turned her face away, wanting to escape the tirade from this, her better father.

Gibbs leaned in over her. "_We_ gave our trust. _We _gave our lives. To _you_. Do you know how _hard_ it is to build that kind of trust with us? That kind of commitment, of- of _love_?!

"And it was all a lie. You may have done good by Jenny, but on _my_ team," here he pointed to himself angrily, "the lies don't jive."

His face showed his anger. But his eyes betrayed his hurt.

"Gibbs, I-"

"Was it real? Or was it all fake?"

"not all of it was a lie," she whispered, before the angered agent continued.

"I'm glad I kept you from DiNozzo. You'd'a stabbed him in bed, wouldn't you have?"

"Never," Ziva gasped, feeling the tears building hot and unbidden in her eyes. "Gibbs, Tony…"

"You were sent to kill him. Why didn't you kill him in Tel Aviv?" Gibbs asked, voice harsh. "Then you could have had it written off as rage. Then he was _ready_ to die."

Ziva felt the tears escape, but did not sob.

"He's moved on finally. So should you."

Silence.

"Go home, David."

Knowing he was right was the worst part of all.

****

Tony hammered on the gas, zooming down the familiar D.C. roads to the hospital.

Ziva, Ziva, Ziva!

He knew her visit could not bode well.

Somewhere deep within him, he knew.

Idly, Tony felt the Mustang purr beneath him, admiring the sports car's sleek power.

Then his cell phone rang, flashing a picture of a confused McGee on his caller ID.

"Agent DiNozzo."

"Tony, thank God!" Abby rushed. "Look, be careful! Ziva's here to kill you!"

Tony laughed. "I thought Samuel Rivkin was."

He could hear McGee shifting.

"Tony, it's true. About Ziva. And the Boss is probably on his way to pick up Samuel now."

Tony drew in his breath.

"So did you tell Gibbs?"

"Yeah, he hung up, so he probably went to go talk to Ziva, but it's been a while."

"You only called me now?"

"Well… yeah. But your phone was off earlier!"

"Oh. Right.

"Well, I'm on my way to see Ziva now."

He zoomed towards the hospital, noting a truck pulled over at the side of the road with some long metal poles in the bed.

"No, Tony! Do NOT-"

"Hanging up!"

Just as Tony was about to flip closed his cell phone, red fire clouded his vision and he felt the car lifted.

_Shit, not another car, _was the first thing to pass through his mind.

He screamed as something impaled him through the chest.

Tony passed out, warm blood trickling down from multiple lesions and wounds.

On the other end of the still open line, Abby and Tim stared at each other in unconcealed horror.


	5. Heart to Heart

Kaleidoscope

**A/N: Oh, hi! Have you been waiting long? I know, sorry, but I've started marching band so my writing opportunities will be intermittent for a while and my posting opportunities even more so.**

**Anyhow, enjoy. You have a very long chapter to make up for my inadequacies as the year progresses.**

**Ciao!**

Ch5. Heart to Heart

McGee and Abby stared at each other, horrified. The explosion, even heard over speaker phone, was loud enough to make the entire squad room jump, especially Tony's friends.

Abby was the first to mobilize. "Timmy, call Gibbs. I'll run a trace on Tony's cell if it still works."

Tim, still dazed, quickly hung up on Tony's cell phone and dialed Gibbs' number.

"What now, McGee?"

"Boss, I just heard an explosion while on the phone with Tony."

"Where is he?" Gibbs replied, anxiety apparent in his voice.

"He was driving to the hospital, Abby's trying to run an exact trace."

"Call me when you know, if you can find out."

_Click._

McGee shook his head, clearing it. "Abby, do you have anything yet?"

"Calm down, it's been like five seconds."

Abby punched furiously at the keyboard, her face in extreme "concentration mode".

"Gibbs would- never mind."

Tim punched away at one of his older terminals, resigned to never being able to figure out Abby.

**** A long time later

Gibbs sighed, waiting on pins and needles for the call. It never came; at least, not before the emergency bay doors opened.

His heart, all ready bruised, nearly broke when he saw DiNozzo.

Tony had a huge, slowly bleeding gash on his head which the EMTs had bandaged, multiple other contusions (many with shrapnel still embedded), and what appeared to be yet another hole in his chest. The metal rod still protruded from him.

"Damn it, Tony!" Gibbs cursed.

Gibbs loved his team, and seeing any one of them hurt in any way hurt him.

He loved them, so much.

Every one of them.

DiNozzo was annoying, petty, and immature; but he was also a good person and a good agent when he wanted or needed to be. Tony was family, and Gibbs' partner.

Loner? Gibbs?

Not with his boats, and not with his nosy senior field agent around.

Gibbs followed the gurney, sparing a quick glance for Ziva, who stared openmouthed at the dying man on it.

**** An even longer, unknown amount of time later

The surgery was over.

Gibbs stood up, barring the doctor from exiting DiNozzo's room. "I want to see him."

"Family?" the doctor asked, slightly intimidated by the intense silver-haired man.

"Does it matter?"

The doctor gulped, not pressing it. "He's in a coma, so… it's up to you if you want to go in. I won't stop you, though." He stepped aside quickly, nervous.

Gibbs brushed past the doctor.

He sat down in the chair next to Tony's bed, looking at his partner. Tony did not look so big, with all those tubes poking out of his body. Jethro grinned wryly.

"You know what my boss still calls me? Probie. I was just like you, DiNozzo… Well, not exactly like you. But close enough. I had a knack for investigating, and desperately wanted Mike's approval." He laughed.

"I got it. Every day. I just didn't know it. And… I don't share my approval of you, with you enough. Blind trust and head slaps aren't enough.

"You're a hell of an agent, DiNozzo. Don't give up on me now. Damn it, Tony! Wake up!" Gibbs sighed.

He then gulped. "And… I might as well tell you a few things before _she_ does. I dunno if you'll remember, but… Here goes."

Gibbs watched his agent's eyes flicker beneath his closed lids.

"Tony, Ziva's here. I know you know, but… She's not here for us. She's here to kill you.

"McGee and Abby figured it out. And that's not all.

"Trust's important, DiNozzo. I have to trust whom I work with, and they have to trust me.

"I didn't trust Ziva, when she came to NCIS. Kate was dead, and Ziva was responsible for the man who had killed my agent. Then…

"She shot Ari, Tony." Gibbs nodded to himself, leaning back.

"Her half-brother. For us, NCIS- at least, I thought so. Just a month ago… Whenever it was Ziva left, stayed 'home', Vance told me the truth. Ziva killed Ari on orders from her father!"

Gibbs shook his head sadly.

"It was all a lie, Tony. I dunno, I just guess… well… I trusted her, you know?" He laughed bitterly. "Of course you know. You would not be here if you didn't.

"Well, I guess I'll see you when you wake up. Tony."

The agent sat for a moment more, feeling awkward as he contemplated the silence.

****

Tim and Abby stood in his door. They had not even looked at Ziva's room, as they passed.

"I'm going to freeze her out," Abby had remarked.

Now tears streamed silently down the Goth's face. "He's so… helpless," she sobbed.

McGee nodded, weaving his arm around Abby's waist slowly. "He'll be okay. He's Tony. Tony is always okay."

Abby looked seriously down at Tim. "Timmy, I… Don't do this to me, Timmy."

Tim's brow furrowed and he looked up.

"Abby, I…"

"Don't blow up, Tim. I like you too much."

"Abby, it's just part of the job. We make enemies. Especially field agents."

"So get a desk job. Move back to cyber crimes. Do _something_!"

McGee laughed gently, rubbing a circle in her lower back. "Abby, why have this talk now? Here?

Abby gestured to Tony's prone form.

"Timmy, I love you. I want you to live."

McGee nodded slowly.

"What kind of love are we talking?" he replied, as slowly as he nodded.

Abby rolled her head back, contemplating his implications.

She turned back to him. With a slight smile she spoke. "Which would you rather?"

He rolled his lips, deciding a few things for himself. Finally: "I'm not sure. Maybe you can make up my mind for me?"

With that, the young special agent crushed his lips against Abby's in a sweet, passionate kiss.

"So sweet," rasped a familiar voice.

Abby and Tim's heads snapped around to glare at Ziva.

"Ziva," Tim muttered.

"May I… have a moment?" She nodded past the couple to where Tony lay.

"What are you doing here, David?" Abby enquired, eyes narrowed.

"I was discharged. I want to see Tony," Ziva replied.

"Well, don't."

"Abby," McGee whispered gently.

"Timmy, just because this _woman_ loved Tony doesn't mean she won't try and knife him or something!"

"We can watch her. From over here." Tim pulled Abby away to a safe distance.

Gulping slightly, Ziva stepped into Tony's room. She glanced back, to meet Abby's icy stare for a moment.

She sat down beside him, fingers instinctively resting at the hollow of her throat where usually her necklace would hang.

"Gibbs has likely all ready told you everything," the Israeli said flatly. "Told you why I am here."

She took hold of one of his hands in both of hers; fighting back the tears she had come to know so well for this man. Lightly, she traced Tony's veins with her fingertips, running up his arm to his face where she rested the back of her hand against his cheek.

"I do not know if I can do it, Tony."

Carefully, the brunette ran her fingers through his soft brown hair, then across the light stubble on his cheeks.

"I loved you too much to let you go. Now, you may be gone without my help.

"I do not think I can kill you. Not like this. Not here." She laughed acidly. "If I am to kill you, Tony, you will be awake. You will see me. You will know how it kills me to see you dead.

"The time has never been right for us. Somehow, one or the other of us always makes it bittersweet, leaving us both in the dust, hurt and alone. What is it that neither of us can commit?

"I suppose we shall never know."

Lightly, oh so lightly, Ziva brushed her lips to Tony's forehead. Before she could stop herself, those traitorous lips kissed Tony's own around the tubes.

Quickly and feeling ashamed, she left.

McGee and Abby looked at each other. "Can I have a minute with him?" they asked, at the same time.

"You first," Tim amended.

Abby nodded, swiftly brushing past Ziva as the other woman exited.

"Ziva," Abby hissed.

"Abby…"

"Save it."

The Goth then sat down next to her friend. "Tony, we missed you. We even missed Ziva, but she's an evil traitor."

Tears fell on Tony's face as Abby leaned over him.

"Tony, Ziva is here to kill you! Is here to kill you! That should mean something to you, even comatose."

Abby smiled a moment.

"Since you are in a coma, I guess I can pass some time by telling you a few things Timmy let slip.

"You're soooo Tommy. I got Mr. Gemcity to admit he was McGregor and I was Amy, and from there… it was just obvious. He mentioned a movie deal, too, Tony! Maybe you can play yourself! And maybe Angelina Jolie could play Ziva. Wouldn't that be just awesome?"

Abby smiled through her tears, barely holding herself from sobbing uncontrollably.

"And, tony, guess what else? The Sisters were talking, and they want to start a church group separate from the Alexandria league. Them versus Brothers, Sunday schoolers, and other Sisters! It would be pretty awesome."

She broke off in a huge racking sob.

"Tony, don't die! We need you. I need you. Even Timmy needs you!" Abby stroked his face sadly, avoiding the many tubes as she wiped away the moisture from her tears.

Carefully, Abby leaned in. Almost conspiratorially, she whispered, "I want you to be Timmy's best man. He hasn't proposed yet, but I know he will. We love each other," she finished simply.

Gently Abby hugged Tony's prone torso, exiting to let her almost-fiancé in.

Tim entered the hospital room, looking at his best friend's still body. Somehow, it reminded him too much of what had happened to Kate. "Tony…" McGee began, stopping himself. "Tony, while I have the chance, I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry.

"You're obnoxious and incredibly immature, but you do your job and you do it well. You've done so much for me, even through the teasing and your own personality, and I think I can say that I understand now.

"Tony, I can't say that I would do, or have done, what you have decided to do with your life, but I can understand why you do after having known you for so long.

"I know how hard life has been on you, and how messed up you are on the inside. I can see that, Tony. You are not _that_ good a liar. And… we all respect that. We've all been somewhere similar before.

"Tony, I can see through your shield. We all can. You're not the man you pretend to be. Being all smiley and annoying tends to make you enemies, not friends, but you make it work. I like that about you. I look up to you, Tony.

"I know, crazy, right? But… Tony, you're a sometimes-great guy. I can't say that I would make all your decisions if given the chance, but I can definitely say that I wish I had been given some of your chances instead of you.

"During and after Jeanne Benoit…" McGee paused, not wanting to broach the sore subject to Tony, even if he was asleep. "Tony, I was worried about you. Ziva more so. After it came out into the open, I wished that I had been given the opportunity to take the mission instead of you. I know I would not have been able to successfully, but Abby and I have something special. Something you and Ziva should have been able to have.

"So… I guess what I'm saying, is… You are such a strong person, Tony. Courageous and self-sacrificing. I mean, how many times have you saved the team's collective ass? There wouldn't be very many good agents left in NCIS if it wasn't for you, Tony."

McGee's mind flashed back again to Kate. What would have happened if Tony had gotten that bullet instead? Life would have been drastically different, that was for sure.

"It takes guts to do this job. I think you have both of ours." He grinned. "I would kind of like to keep mine, so… Get better, Tony. Wake up."

After a moment of silence, Tim stood up awkwardly. Embarrassed, he linked arms with Abby to head to a late dinner.

**** Two days later

That morning, one Doctor Donald Mallard, M.E., came into the trauma bay. "DiNozzo," he murmured, to be directed down the hall.

Ducky halted at the door to Tony's room. "Anthony, good morning."

The aging surgeon sat beside Tony, placing a hand on DiNozzo's shoulder. "Anthony, I'll not say those things I expect others to have said all ready. Dearest Anthony, I'll not waste your time." He chuckled a bit. "Though, as you have nowhere else to be, I suppose I shall.

"Right after I received my first degree in medicine, I took a little hiatus to South Carolina. I was enamored with the romanticism of good Scottish Patrick Ferguson, and wanted to visit the place he died.

"So, I spent some time in the Piedmont. King's Mountain. Every day I walked the trails, visiting the graves of those who perished in that long ago battle. One especially hot summer's afternoon, a lovely young woman collapsed of a heat stroke by Ferguson's memorial. I, of course, treated her.

"She sat up in my rented automobile and promptly told me, once she had been reoriented, of course, that her name was Annalise Walters and she had been watching me walk for some time.

"Annalise had the loveliest eyes, a blue green like the ocean in the Caribbean. And her hair! It was such a thick, dark blonde, nearly brown! She was quite beautiful.

"Needless to say, I was taken with her. Annalise became my summer romance, though she was in my life far longer than that. We traveled together- she was a doctor in the Peace Corps, and so our paths seemed often crossed.

"Eventually, when she found herself in my Scotland, we were set to be married.

"Our day never came. Annalise was… killed, three weeks before the wedding. A robber shot at the police, and missed."

Ducky's voice broke, talking about this blue part of his life.

"Anthony, you and our Ziva had something. Even if she is here to kill you, even if she succeeds, do not let her without telling her how you felt. God knows I regret some things I said to Annalise, before…" The M.E. stopped again. "Well, I should probably be going."

When Ducky folded his coat over his arm to leave, a familiar grey haired entity stormed into the room. Gibbs paused when he saw his friend, but quickly recovered.

"How is he?" demanded Gibbs.

"Same as yesterday, Jethro. In deep slumber, not to be awakened by our mortal lumbering."

Jethro stood behind Ducky's chair, staring down at Tony. "It's odd, isn't it? It has been proven that the people who care the most about this man are his coworkers?" Ducky asked, after a moment.

"It has been four days now." Gibbs' cool blue eyes misted for a moment in some secret Marine sorrow.


	6. And the Verdict Is

Kaleidoscope

**A/N: You know, it takes a long time to write. This chapter, it took me like a week and a half to write because of writer's block, and I have been having computer issues every time I try to type it up. So now, two weeks after it was supposed to be up, I am typing it during study hall. Mmhm.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own NCIS, yatah yatah. Also I own none of the things I reference in these chapters, except for maybe the hard copies of the chapter, since I write the story on paper first.**

Ch6. And the Verdict Is

Ziva watched emotionlessly as Ducky and Gibbs stood over Tony. For now the sound was off, but she reluctantly turned it on just in time to hear Gibbs say:

"…bring her in. I don't know if _this_," he waved a hand at Tony, "was her or Sam Rivkin, but _she's_ the one here to kill him."

The silver-haired man exited the room, and Ziva turned away, shocked. Samuel was here? She had only met him once, but she had been taken by his devotion to her father. Something was going on, and Ziva had to find out what.

Deep in thought, Ziva picked up her cell as it rang. Without even bothering to check the Caller ID she flipped the phone open, answering, "Shalom, Papa."

"Shalom, my child."

"NCIS knows my purpose here."

The Director drew in his breath. "Ziva, go to the Embassy. You are safe there. From there I can arrange a private flight for you back to Israel."

"Agent Gibbs is nearly at my door. I have to let him apprehend me."

Her father did not seem to notice the wording of her sentence and let her willingness slide. "Have you spoken more to Agent DiNozzo since his last visit to you?"

"No, as he is in a coma."

"Why is he in a coma?"

"I do not know. It was an explosion, possibly caused by those who set fire to my apartment."

"Have you visited him?"

"No," she lied.

A knock on the door. "I shall go, father."

_Click._

Ziva walked to the door of her hotel room, swinging it open. "Hello, Gibbs."

"Will you come willingly or am I going to have to shoot you?" the silver-haired agent inquired quietly.

"I shall go with you of my own accord."

On the drive to the navy yard, Ziva couldn't help but ask one thing. "Why did you not have McGee bring me in directly from the hospital?"

"I was a little preoccupied." Gibbs stared straight ahead, his eyes not leaving the road. He drove with his usual reckless abandon.

"He is not awake."

Statement.

"No."

Statement.

"Tony…" she sighed, turning her head to the window. Ziva watched the city flash by, not really seeing it. Gibbs glanced over for the first time, watching the Israeli in both confusion and understanding before he returned his gaze forward.

****

Samuel Rivkin tapped one finger on the top of the interrogation room's single table. He was a good-looking man, around the same age as Ziva. Tall, with wavy dark hair and brown eyes, Samuel was almost a mirror image of his older brother. The only difference was the absence of lines around his mouth and eyes.

_And,_ McGee mused as he watched from the observation room, _he's minus a few bullets courtesy of Tony's Sig._

Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs stormed into the interrogation room. He said nothing, just slapped a manila folder onto the table before Rivkin.

Samuel did not react.

Gibbs leaned against the glass, blocking Samuel's view of his own reflection. Sam was forced to meet Gibbs' icy stare. Brown eyes met blue, and Rivkin turned his head.

"I am Israeli, not Iraqi, and I am in this country legally, if that is why I am here." Samuel still did not look down at the folder.

Suddenly, Rivkin's eyes lit up with an intense fire. "Ah… this is NCIS. You are Agent Gibbs."

"You are Officer Samuel Rivkin, Mossad Director David's little pet."

Rivkin seemed startled. Gibbs laughed, a little threateningly. "I know a lot more about you than was relevant to that little folder there, Sammy. Most of it was unconfirmed, except for now, of course, your place of employment.

Gibbs leaned over Michael's brother. "I know how old you were when you learned to ride a bike. I know your first date was with your second cousin. I know who your first time was with.

"I know that you and your brother were like _this_." Gibbs forcefully pushed out his hand, first two fingers intertwined.

"So tell me, Sam. Why do you and the Director want DiNozzo and David dead?"

Rivkin's eyes danced, knowing Gibbs had nothing. "That is a serious accusation you are making, Agent Gibbs. Why would the Director of Mossad want his own daughter dead?"

Gibbs' gut was churning.

He leaned away with a smile, slashing his hand through the air in the cutthroat sign to make it seem as though the cameras were now off. "I tell you what, boy," he said menacingly, leaning in over Rivkin.

He was interrupted by frantic knocking at the door, and a "disheveled" McGee burst in. "Interrogation's out of hand in room two. Nichols needs your help, Boss."

"Guess we'll have to finish this another time," Gibbs growled to Sam, following McGee out of the room and slamming the door.

The folder still lay on the table in front of Sam.

"He knows more than he'll tell you, Boss."

"You think so, McGee?"

"Uh..."

"Never mind. Is Ducky in place?"

"He's worried for Ziva."

"So am I, Tim…"

McGee stopped at this use of his first name, then quickly moved into the booth. He grimaced sadly as he watched Ziva pace restlessly on the other side of the glass.

Agent Gibbs slammed open the door, and Ziva flinched. She turned away, refusing to meet his eyes.

"What the HELL is going on, David?"

Ducky saw her flinch again; at both the use of her last name and the reminder of her purpose in the States, he supposed.

A single tear rolled down her cheek, and Gibbs' face softened. He extended a hand to place on her shoulder, but the still-burnt Israeli moved away to a corner, where she leaned against the wall, her back to Gibbs.

"Ziver…" he murmured, using his pet name for her.

Her shoulders shook as she tried to keep tears from flowing.

"Why are you here?"

"You know that."

"Not from you."

"You know." Ziva turned to Gibbs, her eyes glistening though no tears fell, her voice steely. "You know why I am here. You know my loyalty to… him, so very well! You have proven what you think my worth is now. You know what I would do for my Director. You know what I have done for him before. _So why do you ask?_"

"I want it from you." Gibbs' blue eyes glared as he stepped closer.

Ziva's own chocolate eyes narrowed as she hissed, "If you want me to give you a reason, a justification, I cannot give you one."

"I don't expect one. I just want to hear it from you, the reason you are here."

"My loyalty knows bounds, Gibbs"

Gibbs' brow furrowed, and he recoiled slightly in surprise. "What do you mean, Ziva?"

Her eyes widened as she genuinely thought. "I do not know," she whispered, softly.

The silver-haired agent breathed deeply. "Your Embassy is faxing over some papers as we speak. They are also sending a driver. You should be out soon."

She nodded, biting her lip. "Tony?"

Gibbs pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number. "Doctor Collin.

"Yeah, about Anthony DiNozzo."

He drew in his breath. "Thank you…

"Yes, I'll be by later. Thanks."

Gibbs flipped the phone shut and turned to Ziva, something unreadable in his eyes.

"…Well?" she asked, voice small and body tense.

"Dead."


	7. Disgrace

Kaleidoscope

**Disclaimer: I own no names of persons, places, or things, whether fictional or not. Meaning my Angelina Jolie bit.**

Ch7. Disgrace

Ziva sat silently, trembling, in the car as her father's Embassy friend drove her away from NCIS. Her eyes were screwed shut, refusing to open and give way to the tears that threatened to fall.

She would not let the Director's lackey see her cry.

It did not seem possible. Tony could not be dead. Tony… her pillar… Tony, who was always there for her when no one else was. Tony, who knew more about her than anyone, including herself. Tony, who cared more for the team than his own life. Tony, who was so foolish and immature but was so intelligent and brave when it mattered.

Tony, the man who had made her feel again. The man she had loved.

Still loved… Not even death could halt her feelings.

Now she simply wanted to curl up somewhere and lament her mistakes. She was Officer David, a Mossad assassin. Was she not supposed to be cold, unfeeling? Why then had her life in America been so distressful? Why then had she come to love Washington more than Tel Aviv and Jerusalem?

If only Ziva had followed her orders for the sake of orders, then none of this would be happening now.

Ziva would be loyal to Mossad, not NCIS.

Ziva would have been "home" now, never baby napped by the cell in Somalia because of NCIS.

Michael would not be dead, and she would never have fallen in love with her partner at NCIS.

So Tony would be alive, as well.

****

Gibbs remained in the interrogation room for several minutes after Ziva was escorted out of the building. McGee could not see his face, but Ducky knew from experience what the way Gibbs leaned on the desk meant.

Ducky could nearly _see_ the expression of regret and sorrow on Gibbs' face. If he had been able to really see it, he also would have noticed how the Marine's eyes were focused past the wall he stared at, and his mouth set in a hard line, ready for what was coming.

He would have noticed the slow blinks and brighter than usual blue eyes.

Ducky would have noticed, and Gibbs knew it.

Once Gibbs had composed himself, he exited interrogation. McGee met him outside the door.

"Voicemail?" he asked, remembering the plan he and Abby had formulated and put to Gibbs.

"No, the doctor."

McGee's face fell a bit. Confused, he asked, "So… was Doctor Collin in on it?"

"Nope." The beginnings of something began to form on Gibbs' face.

"Then… is Tony really…" McGee trailed off, not daring to finish.

Gibbs' face broke out in a _real_ smile. "DiNozzo's awake, McGee."

Tim's face lit up as well. "Can you drive?"

"Come on, McGee. You too, Ducky," Gibbs called, and Ducky hurried out of observation. Tim called Abby, and she met them at Gibbs' car.

The Goth bounced up and down in excitement. "I can't believe it! He's finally awake!" She kissed Tim in her excitement, though the couple quickly separated when they felt Gibbs' glare on them.

McGee cleared his throat nervously, expecting a reprimand. Gibbs said nothing, didn't even headslap his agent; he just unlocked his car and got in the driver's seat.

Everyone else got into their respective seats- Ducky was shotgun, and McGee and Abby sat next to each other in the back- and hung on for dear life as Gibbs _zoom_ed away.

****

The four crowded into Tony's hospital room, much to the dismay of Dr. Collin. "My agent," Gibbs had pointed out, glaring at the doctor.

Collin agreed to give them team twenty minutes together with him, then ten apiece alone. That gave them a total of an hour with Tony.

"Ha-HA!" Tony yelled when he saw the group, his voice rasping slightly. He outstretched his arms, inviting Abby into a gentle hug as she squealed in excitement. "I knew it!" he finished, triumphantly.

"Knew what?" Gibbs asked, with a slight smirk still on his face as he watched his agent.

"That you guys would visit me when I woke up! The day I woke up! Like an hour after I woke up!"

As Abby hugged him tighter he whispered to her, "Angelina Jolie would make a great Lisa. Did you _see_ the woman in _Wanted_?"

Abby looked at him in surprise, but grinned hugely. "You sneaky man, you remember!"

"I remember some stuff, words mostly. I asked the doc if they were real and he said they probably were." Tony's eyes flicked to Gibbs for a moment before returning to Abby.

Their faces solemnized simultaneously, remembering the one team member who was not here, though for different reasons.

"How did it go with… Ziva?" Tony asked tentatively. "Doc said I was out for almost a week, so Boss would have interrogated her by now."

Abby nodded, turning to face the others. "You'll have to ask…"

Gibbs had vanished.

"…Ducky or Timmy…" she trailed. "I wasn't there."

Tony's dancing green eyes stilled and turned to his friends.

McGee looked very nervous, all of a sudden. "Well… see… Gibbs… kinda…"

"Tim!"

"Told her you were dead?" McGee shifted uncomfortably in the knowledge that it had been his idea. Well, mostly Abby's, but his too.

Abby shifted as well, nervous now that she was confronted with the "dead man" himself.

Tony looked between the two, green eyes narrowing. "I wonder whose idea _that_ was."

"It was for your own good!" Abby cried defensively.

"She loves me," Tony replied. "Did you think how much pain it would cause her?"

He didn't say how much pain it caused _him_, how much just those words had torn his heart in two again.

"She'll get over it," Abby shot back.

Tim immediately intervened. "Tony, she may claim to love you, but she was here to kill you. That sort of denotes some level of hatred."

"You don't know Zi like I do." Ziva had visited him, said some things. Her voice… her words. She didn't want to kill him. She didn't want to kill anyone, now.

Gibbs had said something to him, too, but Tony had more trouble recalling that. If only he could! It was important, Tony knew.

"You're right, I don't." McGee's voice snapped Tony back to the present. Tim opened his mouth to say more, but Ducky cut him off.

"Terribly sorry to interrupt, but I would care to conjecture on Ziva's state of mind. Would you mind if I did so, Anthony?"

Tony laughed a bit, glancing at McGee. "Not if it shuts up McBigmouth for a minute."

Damn. He didn't realize how much he'd missed those nicknames.

"For my conjecture, then. I believe that Ziva is struggling with herself over something in the past, as well as in the more recent past. Jethro is mad at her for something, and she has obvious regrets over the same event. However, that is not why she decided to take the task of killing you, Anthony. Something else plagues her mind, perhaps the recent events between you two? Your portrayal as both hero and villain in her story, combined with her own flickering loyalties?"

McGee seemed incredulous. "How can you get so much from _Ziva_?"

Tony smiled slightly. "Ziva's an open book," he rasped. "She didn't used to be, but she certainly is now."

"Only to you two," Abby commented, pointing between Tony and Ducky. I mean, I thought I could read the… woman, but apparently not."

"Have you ever considered why Ziva is easier to read now?" Ducky inquired curiously.

"Gibbs?"

The laughter was clear on all their faces, and Tony chuckled a bit as well at his own stupidity. He then sobered, seeing it dawn on Abby and Tim's faces who. "No."

"Why not? She spent more time with you than anyone. She only started joking around after you got to her. Tony, you changed Ziva," Tim said gently.

"I… don't… didn't have that much of an effect on her, though!"

"Why did she look at you the way she did?" Abby asked.

"Why did she concern herself over your wellbeing so much, more than even Gibbs?" Tim added.

"Why are you still alive?" Ducky asked.

Tony avoided their gazes, trying to not believe what he knew was true.

"Why _aren't_ you dead, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, walking in with a cup of coffee in each hand. He gave one to Tony.

"I will be after I drink this tar," Tony remarked, swirling the dark liquid in the cup.

"It's that hazelnut crap you like, Tony."

"Oh. Okay then," the invalid replied, gulping the warm coffee. "So… uh… did you talk to Rivkin the Younger?"

"Yup." Gibbs sipped his own coffee, watching his agent cautiously.

"And?"

"Denies any involvement."

"What's your gut saying?"

"Eli David's a bastard." Gibbs didn't give Tony his own theory on Rivkin's presence.

Tony met Gibbs' eyes, wondering about something. "No news there." Tony had figured Rivkin would be Mossad. He just wasn't sure about the orders; this was practically confirmation. Now for that other thing. "Boss, could I speak to you alone?"

"Sure, Tony." Gibbs nodded, and the others quickly filed out of the room. Abby closed the door behind her.

"I can remember… voices, from the coma. Yours… But I can't remember the words."

Gibbs sighed heavily and sat down.

"Well?" Tony demanded.

The Marine did not answer, just breathed heavily, eyes fixed on the floor, hands clasped between parted legs.

"Gibbs, I need to know."

The older agent slowly raised his head, meeting Tony's bright gaze. "Trust me, Tony. You don't want to."

"Yes, I do, Boss. This might be why Ziva's here."

"Damn straight it's part of why she's here."

Gibbs made to stand up, but Tony's left hand caught his shoulder. "You're not going anywhere. I'll ask Doctor Collin to put you in a straightjacket if it keeps you here."

Jethro looked at Tony's face, seeing the set determination there. He sat back down. "Fine. Are you sure, Tony?"

"Yes, I am."

"Ziva shot Ari."

Tony was taken aback. "What?"

"I told her I needed backup. I was luring Ari to me. If he showed, I would need her. He came, and she shot him."

"That's why you let her on the team," Tony realized.

"She was ordered."

"Onto the team? I knew that, Jenny wanted her," Tony replied, confused.

"To shoot Ari."

Tony's eyes widened. "That's what she meant," he whispered.

"What, DiNozzo?" Now Gibbs was confounded. Ziva had mentioned something about… something… to him, but Gibbs had not heard her through his rage.

"Sometimes… when she was asleep at my place… she would talk in her sleep." Tony chewed his lip a moment before continuing, bracing himself for the headslap that never came. "She'd say, 'I wanted to,' and 'I am sorry, Ari,' and sometimes it was your name and not his."

_And sometimes it was my name…_

*FLASHBACK*

Tony smiled wanly as he looked at the beautiful Israeli in his arms, her face tear streaked but peaceful in sleep. Occasionally her brow would twitch; from bad dreams, Tony could only assume. Her thick chocolate hair tangled in the fingers of his right hand, her torso pressed against his, and her face was buried in the crook of his neck. Despite the tremors he felt in her body, Tony knew se was comfortable, and wouldn't move for the world.

She had come to him after Roy died. Frankly, that was the last thing Tony would have expected her to do; he felt so bad now for the way he had treated her before. About Roy. After all, Tony knew how it felt to lose those you loved.

Ziva had been sobbing, immediately throwing her arms around Tony's bare chest when he sleepily opened the door at 1 a.m. He had comforted her, listening as she shared tales of those she had lost. Ari, Tali, Roy… Former partners, while on ops for Mossad. So many people, so much death, and so many salty tears.

She was so vulnerable, in sleep. Tony hated to see her cry, hated to see her like this. It reminded him that there were some things he could not protect her against.

Suddenly her arms tightened around him, and her lips moved against his neck. "ARI! Ari… No… Gibbs, I am sorry, Ari… My father…" Tony rubbed her back, trying to calm her down, and she settled back into her restless slumber after a few tense moments.

Eventually Tony nodded off, finding himself leaned back in the recliner with Ziva using him as a bed. They slept like that most of the night, until Tony woke from the feeling of hands skating across his chest. His eyes half-opened, and he saw Ziva's fingers tracing the contours of his muscles. She was sitting up, groggy eyed but awake, still tired enough she did not seem to notice Tony was awake as well.

Tony quickly closed his eyes, not wanting to alert her to his awakeness.

Ziva kissed the top of his chest softly, and ran her hand down his chest one last time. She curled back up against him, and Tony wondered if in her tired state she thought he was someone else.

But then she whispered _his _name as she fell asleep, her wistful breath tickling his neck. "Tony… I am sorry."

*END FLASHBACK*

Gibbs' blue eyes bored into Tony, searching for something. After a moment, he nodded tersely.

"Doesn't matter now. You're dead to her, and she's probably on her way back to Israel now."

Tony grimaced, but did not dare to disagree with Gibbs. Actually… it wasn't like Gibbs could do anything to him right now.

"Boss, you can talk to her."

"DiNozzo." The menace in the unspoken threat to his life was quite clear in the older man's voice.

"Boss, if you talk to Ziva we could get her back."

"She's…"

Tony cut Gibbs off, something he would normally never dare to do. "Gibbs! Listen to me. Ziva doesn't want to be here; at least, not for the reason that she is. If you can talk to her, forgive her, _apologize_ for whatever stupid and pigheaded thing you said to her, then maybe she will stay."

Tony _needed_ Gibbs to listen. Couldn't the Marine see that?

The older man stood up, eyes glaring sharply into Tony. "This is bigger than us, Tony. She's gone. Accept it."

"No." Tony sat up, meeting Gibbs' blue eyes with his green.

His boss sighed and made to leave.

"Boss?"

Gibbs paused at the door, one hand on the frame. "Yeah, Tony?"

"She's sorry."

**A/N: Wow, did you guys really think I killed Tony? What kind of Tony-obsessive did you think I am?**

**Press the green button and tell me, please!**

**P.S. That flashback was so hard to write. Like, writing the **_**Iliad**_** hard.**


	8. Miss You

Kaleidoscope

**A/N: Lookie! A chapter! Wow! Cool! (Actually, I had this one written, it's the next chapter I'm having issues with.)**

**Hey, has anyone seen the promos for season 7? WOWIE, there's some exciting stuff. And the commercial for L.A. had lots of bullets, that's always a good thing.**

**Guess what! Like 2 seconds ago- since I'm typing this up at school- I found out that my school got hit by lightning last night. HOW COOL IS THAT! (No one got hurt.)**

**Disclaimer: Really necessary?**

Ch8. Miss You

Ziva hid in the bathroom as soon as she was at the Embassy. Away from prying eyes, she let her tears fall. Silently.

One word kept ringing through her head.

_Dead._

_Tony is not dead,_ she argued to the Gibbs-voice. _He cannot be dead. He is too strong._

_Remember how weak he looked in that hospital room, Ziva. Would you be able to live through two wounds to the chest within just a few months?_

She did not answer the Gibbs-voice.

After the tears would not come anymore, Ziva unwrapped Tony's jacket from around her waist. She had been to his apartment after being released from the hospital, and had taken the sweat jacket, something he wore often but would not care about replacing.

Now she used it as a pillow, balling it up and resting her head on it as she snapped on the floor of the immaculate restroom.

****

Ziva opened her eyes slowly as the sound of footsteps roused her from sleep. A pair of fine leather shoes, attached to a pair of trousered legs, woke her up fully and she jumped up.

"Hadar. You are here?" Ziva quickly brushed away the remaining tears from her eyes, pretending to rub her eyes.

"I am your control officer on this mission." Hadar pulled Ziva to her feet. Ziva quickly wrapped the jacket again around her waist as Hadar continued. "We have been looking for you, Officer David. If I may say, the men's restroom is the last place one would be expected to go to sleep."

She did not bother to explain, to tell Hadar that this was where _he_ would always be, where _she_ would always be. Whenever the other was upset, it could always be counted upon to find them in the men's restroom. It was their conference room.

Hadar led her away, bringing Ziva to Bashan's office. "Ziva, here Bashan will debrief you on your return to Israel."

As soon as Ziva stepped into the office, the door was closed behind her and Bashan began speaking rapidly in Hebrew. "Officer David, the mission was successful. Your father wants you home now, and the jet has already left from Ben Gurion to Dulles. We will pack your remaining personal effects, just be ready to get on the plane at 0700 tomorrow morning."

Ziva nodded, looking into Bashan's eyes. "Does he wish to speak with me?"

"No."

Odd, under the circumstances. No matter, though.

Ziva turned to leave, but paused a few steps from the door when Bashan chuckled. "What is funny?"

"Nothing that is of your concern." The man had regained the composure he had lost in those few seconds of laughter.

Her brow furrowed, but she turned away, willing herself to brush away the nagging doubts she was experiencing.

Ziva checked her watch for the time as she walked to the Embassy room she would sleep in that night. 1900 hours.

It would be a long night.

**** The Hospital

Already on a plane.

The thought haunted Tony. So, he would do something about it. Tony picked up the hospital phone, dialing McGee's cell phone.

"Tony, are you okay?" Tim immediately picked up.

"Yes, McWorrywart. Hey, Tim, could you do me a favor?"

McGee paused. Tony could practically see the suspicion on his face. "What kind of favor?"

"I just want you to look up the most recent plane departures to Ben Gurion airport, as well as the next flight."

Now he could _hear_ the suspicion, too. "Tony…"

"Don't make me check myself out and come over there!"

Tim was so malleable. "Looking!"

Tony grinned triumphantly. "Looks like there haven't been any departures since this morning, and the next one is a private jet that departs almost as soon as it arrives."

"Departure time?"

"0700 from Dulles. Want me to do anything else?"

"No, I got it, Probie. Thanks, though." Tony placed the phone back on its hook distractedly as he plotted.

0700…

His eyes traveled to the clock. 1930.

A few hours of much needed sleep, then he would fly this coop while the rest of his teammates were asleep.

**** Israeli Embassy 0630

Ziva cleaned herself up, washing the redness from her face with water and putting on a thin layer of concealer to mask the shadows beneath her eyes. Gently she smoothed out some of the wrinkles in her clothing, wishing she could change. She did not have spare clothes, though.

Once she had made herself semi presentable, Ziva meandered out of the women's restroom and somehow found herself staring at a vending machine.

Her mind immediately travelled to the NCIS break room.

How many times had she watched Tony pound that one spot on that one machine with his fist?

How many times had she, Tony, and McGee held their own conferences there, no fear of Gibbs because of the terrible coffee?

How many times had they all laughed there, together?

Ziva dared not close her eyes.

If she did, she would see his smiling face.

If she did, she would see McGee alone at a table, chewing on a 50¢ candy bar because he could not quite find that one spot on the machine.

Ziva sighed and made her way to the Embassy car that would take her to the airport.

Then, she would board the plane that would take her home.

D.C. was not her home now, not without the one person that had made it so.

**** 0630, the Hospital

Tony had not even checked himself out. He'd just put on the street clothes he had tricked Abby into bringing him yesterday and sauntered out. Luckily, none of the nurses that knew him were on call.

_Ha-ha!_ He'd thought triumphantly upon seeing the Mustang that sat right outside the doors. _Charlie delivered._

Thank God for rich frat brothers with spare cars.

Tony jingled the keys in his pocket, which his buddy Mark had given him courtesy of Charlie.

Perfect fit.

Tony loved the _revv_ of the engine, and savored the car's purr for a moment before _zoom_ing off towards Dulles airport.

**** 0647

Ziva watched the jet pull into a smooth landing, feeling the tug of her heart at the same time. Her throat constricted as she considered what that jet meant for her future.

**** 0652

Tony pushed the machine to its max, testing the powerful car's limits. He had to get there in time.

He was too far away…

**** 0655

Ziva stepped onto the plane, settling herself into a seat, staring ahead at the wall. Whatever one would say, Ziva knew she would miss… this country.

**** 0659

Tony _ran_ through the airport, making his way to where her flight would depart from.

_Ziva David, I _will_ get my goodbye!_

**** 0700

Tony stood, out of breath, on the runway. He rested his hands on his knees as the plane, with typical Mossad and Israeli precision, left exactly on time.

****

Ziva faced forward, never glancing back. Her heart would not be able to take it.

As a result, she didn't see the man standing on the tarmac, watching the plane disappear.

Four times, now, that one had watched the other disappear.

**** Hospital 0715

Gibbs rounded the corner, nodding to the nurses who knew the team by name.

"Say hi to him for us, we haven't been in yet; he asked us not to wake him until eight," called one of the women.

The agent waved in acknowledgement, knowing Tony was many of the nurses' favorite patient.

Still smiling oh-so-slightly, Gibbs swung open the door to Tony's hospital room. "Time to wake your-"

A crash and the smell of coffee penetrated the air as the cup slipped from Gibbs' grip.

"You _bastard_."

Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs was _pissed._


	9. And the Fireworks Begin

Kaleidoscope

**A/N: Hey, a chapter! I've included many of the things I love- fluff Tiva, fluff mcAbby, angry/sentimental Gibbs, lots of angst, stupid Tony... Everything but drunk Tony. And so now I shall put in a few random quotes of my sister, the Big Black Panther.**

**Me: You killed my father.**

**BBP: Worse. I ate your pizza.**

**BBP: "A whole new plotline opens up before my eyes. I can't see it yet, but it's there." I'M COPYRIGHTING THIS FOR USE BY MY ENGLISH TEACHER. HE'LL LOVE IT.**

**Also: I haven't been to any of the Museums and my memory of the Memorial mentioned below is a little sketchy, so bear with me.**

Chapter 9: And the Fireworks Begin

Tony's breathing turned ragged as he continued to stare at the plane. It turned to a tiny dot, fading into the sky as it flew east, never to return.

Because Tony was supposed to be dead.

He blinked once, in confusion, his head spinning as a kaleidoscope of multicolor dots paraded through his vision. A sharp pain stabbed his chest. Tony pressed his head to the spot; when he drew it away, he was vaguely aware it was red with blood.

Tony's brow furrowed as he collapsed, turning the whole world black as night.

**** NCIS Bullpen

Gibbs paced angrily, his deadly gaze occasionally turning on McGee and Abby. The two had been sitting in the same rolling chair when the Boss had stormed into the bullpen, Abby in Tim's lap. Now they both shifted uncomfortably, neither daring to move while waiting for Gibbs to speak.

Jethro finally wheeled to face them, placing the brunt of his steady blue gaze on McGee.

"Where the hell is he?" Gibbs' voice was quiet, never a good sign when he was angry.

"Where is… who?" McGee asked tentatively.

"DINOZZO, McGee!"

"At… the hospital… Abby put in hesitantly. "Isn't he?"

"NO!"

Tim's face paled. "Oh, no…"

"What, McGee?" Gibbs boomed.

"I think I know where he was an hour ago."

"Where?" Gibbs barked.

McGee gulped. "D-Dulles… Airport…"

Gibbs simply stared, eliciting more of a response from Tim.

"Last night… he asked me about flights to Ben Gurion."

"Israel?"

"Yes, sir," McGee replied, at the same time as Abby said, "Yes, ma'am."

"Damn it," Gibbs growled. "McGee, look for him. I'm going to Dulles."

And Gibbs was gone.

**** Dulles Airport(ish)

Tony felt like he was floating, drifting in a warm ocean. His eyelids felt so heavy, and he just wanted to sleep.

Voices penetrated his silent world, muffled as if he was hearing them through water. What were they saying?

Alive… Pulse… Blood… He could only catch a few words here and there, nothing concrete, nothing that told him what he wanted so badly to know.

Eventually a beeping pierced the blissful dark Tony inhabited.

He blinked once, twice: bringing reality into focus. Tony reached for the uncomfortable tubes in his mouth, but a firm hand stopped him.

"Doctor said you can't take those out until he's sure your idiotic stunt didn't damage your lungs more," Gibbs said gently but firmly.

Tony could not respond with the tube down his throat, unfortunately. He really wanted to.

Gibbs kept his "I-can-see-into-your-soul" glare trained at Tony, who responded with his own trademark "You-know-what's-wrong-so-leave-me-the-hell-alone" look.

Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs' eyes narrowed for a moment, and then Tony's superior barked a laugh. "You sure screwed the pooch this time, DiNozzo."

Tony narrowed his own green eyes, to which Gibbs responded in the same way. It reminded Tony of that one scene in _The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly._ For once, however, he was not sure who was who.

Gibbs sighed, leaning forwards and clasping his hands.

"I cannot _believe_ you, Tony. Barely a full day out of a coma, and you decide to run to the airport to tell the woman who wanted to kill you that you _aren't_ dead?"

Tony's face went quickly from wary to indignant.

"DiNozzo, I'm fed up with this. You can_not_ keep acting like an eighth grader, just running off on your slightest whim and fancy with no regard for your or others' safety."

Gibbs leaned in, his eyes slits. "If I _ever_ catch you pulling this idiotic stunt again, your badge and gun will be on my desk before you can say 'federal agent'."

Gibbs locked eyes with Tony for a few moments more, and then he left the hospital room angrily. Tony followed Gibbs with his eyes for a minute, and as soon as the agent was out of sight Tony pulled the tubes out of his throat.

_There is _way _more tub in there than should fit,_ he thought.

**** Next Day

Abby held one hand over her eyes while McGee tugged her along by the other. "Where are we going, Timmy? You should have warned me about all this walking, I have my platforms on!"

Tim laughed and caught her when she lost her balance. "We're here," he informed her.

Abby quickly removed her hand and beamed when she saw Tim's surprise. A blanket was laid out on the green field near the Washington Monument, complete with a wicker basket and an array of food. "A picnic?" she squealed happily.

He nodded, grinning broadly. "I thought you would enjoy it."

"Timmy, it's wonderful!" Abby sat down, and McGee joined her. "I just still can't believe Gibbs gave us the day off, though."

Tim clasped a hand over her mouth. "No. No Gibbs. He let us off, and today is _all us_."

Abby licked his hand and Tim withdrew it quickly. "No Tony, no Vance, no Gibbs. Agreed," she replied, catching his hand and drying it off with a napkin.

Abby took a bite of her sandwich, and her eyes rolled back. "I didn't know turkey and cheese could taste this good!" she exclaimed. "Did you make these?"

"The deli we like did," McGee replied sheepishly. "My only part in the food was buying it all."

"You did a very good job," Abby commented before taking another huge bite of her sandwich.

Tim grinned and shook his head. As he reached for his own sandwich, his other hand rubbed the little velvet box in the pocket of his suit jacket.

Time for that later…

After their lunch, Tim packed up the things and put them in his car, then asked Abby if she would like to walk to their next destination.

"Destination? How mysterious," she commented, a smile perking her red lips.

Hand in hand, Tim and Abby walked through the crisp fall air, making their way to the National Mall.

Before they entered the Air and Space Museum, McGee caught her shoulders and turned her to face him. "Abby, so you know, my plans for us during the past week and a half were really messed up, what with everything that's gone on. I was able to swing one thing last minute, though."

Tim grinned in pleasure as her eyes widened in anticipation, and he pulled her quickly through the building to the Albert Einstein Planetarium. Abby looked from the planetarium doors, to Tim, and back.

"My friend runs the planetarium. I pulled some strings with him, and got us this room for half an hour, all to ourselves."

"Wow…" was all she could manage.

A broad smile lit his face, and Tim led Abby inside to the brilliant starscape.

They sat down in the center of the room, and McGee circled his arms around Abby.

Tim smiled as he watched Abby, her wide eyes reflecting the stars zooming overhead. He returned his gaze to the domed ceiling, where a special tour of the Milky Way Tod had designed for him played.

Once the tour had settled into its final destination, hovering above Saturn and its many rings and moons, Tim kneeled on the ground, his hands on Abby's right knee. She gave a little gasp, meeting his eyes.

"Abby, I love you. I always have. Even when I saw someone else, even when I thought I loved someone else… I loved you, and you were there for me. For… everything, whatever I needed, I had you." McGee pulled the velvet box out of his pocket, opening it to reveal a brilliant white-gold solitaire engagement ring. White diamond, of course, because Tim knew there were some things Abby was traditional about.

He looked up nervously, meeting her eyes. "Abigail Scuito, will you marry me?"

Abby was speechless, only managing a nod as Tim slid the ring onto her left ring finger and pulled her into a deep kiss.

Tim stood her up after a minute, breaking the kiss. "I think we'd better get out before Tod kicks us out," he whispered. "There's another show starting in a few minutes."

Abby laughed, and happily made her way back to the car a few blocks up the street, hand in hand with her fiancé.

When Tim lightly kissed her by the car, he whispered, "For the record, this is why Gibbs let us off today."

He felt her smile against his lips, and laughed aloud.

**** Over the Atlantic Ocean (Limbo… Sometime in the past, not sure when due to time zones and all)

Frustrated with the length of the plane flight, Ziva grabbed her cell phone. She began going through it, removing all traces of Tony and NCIS on it. All the ringtones Tony had recorded for her, from the little ditties he sang to the Green Day songs he had played off his computer and recorded the chorus to on her phone. Ziva began to go through her pictures, realizing just how many photographs she had of Tony, Abby, and McGee. Many of the pictures, Tony did not know she had.

Ziva bit her lip, flipping through the pictures. Finally, she settled on deleting all but three photographs: a picture of Tony on the Fourth of July three years ago, a photo of McGee and Abby kissing she had taken at the hospital, and a photograph of Tony as she had last seen him, in the coma. She did not have any pictures of Gibbs.

Looking at these pictures… it left her to remember. The hospital was still fresh- too fresh- in her mind, but as Ziva looked at the picture she had snapped of Tony three years ago, laughing, bright explosions from behind throwing his face into shadow, Ziva remembered.

****FLASHBACK****

Ziva looked through her peephole to see Tony, and she unlocked the multiple deadlocks and opened the door. Taking the toothbrush out of her mouth, she asked, "Why are you here at nine in the evening?"

"Because the night is young yet! You and I, my dear crazy Mossad ninja chick, are going to see some fireworks!"

"Is that not a bad thing?" Ziva inquired, after she left the door and rinsed her mouth.

"What?" Tony asked. "No! Fireworks are the pretty lights that go boom in the sky," he added omnisciently.

Ziva threw her toothbrush at him. "In Israel those are called bombs." She walked into her bedroom and started to close the door, but Tony caught it.

"What are you doing?" he asked indignantly, not prepared to let her go to sleep.

"I need to change out of my pajamas," Ziva pointed out.

Tony pumped his fist in triumph. "Yes!"

Less than a minute later Ziva came out, dressed in a simple blue tank top and cargo pants, pulling her hair up, to find Tony already flopped on her couch. "You are something else, Tony."

"Irresistible? Hot? Awesome? Special?" Tony continued to pester her as he drove them to wherever it was he was going.

"Pestering! Annoying! Sarcastic! Childlike!" Ziva cried in exasperation, after she could not take it anymore.

Tony laughed, looking over her as he pulled into a parking space. "We're here."

"The Jefferson Memorial?"

"No one ever comes here. I mean, they do, but not like the Lincoln Memorial; it's always quieter here."

"I have been to the Jefferson Memorial, Tony."

"Have you? Have you truly _been_ to the Jefferson Memorial?" Tony asked, in a tone that utterly confused Ziva.

Tony laughed at the expression on her face and dragged her to the Memorial. "So, there's a decent view from here, or we can walk down the trail for a while. I think there are some benches down that way."

"Here is fine," Ziva murmured, looking around at the massive, near empty chamber of the Jefferson Memorial.

"Great." Tony tugged her around the side of the building, to the steps facing the Potomac. "Let's sit."

Right after they sat down, a loud explosion tore through the air and a shower of red, white, and blue sparks lit up the sky behind Tony. Ziva jumped, and Tony could not stop laughing at the look of surprise on her face.

Ziva remembered snapping a picture of Tony, the lights from the fireworks and the Memorial alternating shadow and light across his face. She remembered the familiar way their arms were thrown over each other all night, as Tony gave her a night tour of the city, with festivities throwing the marble into color.

She remembered how happy they were, and how close she had come to kissing him when she had impulsively hugged him good night.

She remembered that was the night she knew she loved him.

****END FLASHBACK****

Ziva's eyes drifted from the photo on the cell phone's tiny screen , out the window to the familiar landscape below.

Wait…

Something seemed-…

Her head whipped around to Hadar, two seats back from her.

"This is not Israel," she gasped as the plane began its descent.


	10. Captive Audience

Kaleidoscope

**A/N: Tuesday! You get a triple-dosing of your favorite NCIS today! NCIS, NCIS LA, and ME!**

**Enjoy my pensiveness… Oh, and I may not care for Vance, but he is SO fun to write.**

Ch10. Captive Audience

Tony glared at McGee as Abby recounted his proposal, something akin to murder lighting the invalid's eyes.

Why did _McGee_ get his happy ending?

Why did _McGee_ get his happy ending, when Tony's was half a world away and believed he was dead?

Tony did not like his thoughts taking that path- after all, Tim was a good partner. Tim had really helped him out, and deserved to be happy, too.

Tony just wished it could have been him…

Sitting under the stars- real stars, not a planetarium.

Holding her close, one hand tangled in her brown hair, listening to her beautiful laugh…

"Tony? TONY!" Abby's voice snapped him out of his reverie, back to the hospital room, staring at the elated forensic scientist and her very own Special Agent Fiancé.

"What?" he asked. "Sorry, I was out of it. Must be the morphine." Tony glared at the IV angrily. He wanted out of here _so_ badly.

"Would you be my best man?" Tim repeated, peering at Tony with a tinge of concern in his face.

Tony almost managed a smile. "Sure, McHusband."

"McAlmost Husband," Tim corrected with a grin.

Tony chuckled. "McProposer."

Tim smiled, shaking his head. "Well, we'll be off. Don't do anything stupid," he added quickly.

_It's not stupid if you know what you are doing,_ Tony thought.

**** The Basement **(You know the one.)**

Gibbs pushed the sandpaper up ad down the rib of his boat, his mind in a different place than his hands currently were.

It hurt him, to treat his agent like he was. Tony did not deserve the harsh words Gibbs seemed always in a position to give- after all, Gibbs knew too well what it was like to love a woman you should not love. However, sometimes DiNozzo just needed some tough love, and Gibbs would give it to him.

Really, how _stupid_ could the man get?

Jethro could not even put into words the concern that had pulsed through his veins at the sight of DiNozzo unconscious on the tarmac, lying in a pool of his own blood. He was not sure how to describe the pain he had experienced with the sound of the EMTs shouting to each other as they checked Tony's vitals, or the relief that had swept through him when DiNozzo was alive. Gibbs tried to tell himself he was just glad he had not lost an agent, but that excuse was feeble even to his own ears. He knew it was love that kept him watching Tony through the younger man's surgery; not as a man to a woman, obviously, but as a father to a son. DiNozzo reminded Gibbs of himself, and Gibbs voiced that on many occasions.

"There seems to be a lot going on with Team Gibbs."

Gibbs sighed at the familiar drawl and looked up at the Director. "What do you want, Leon? An apology?"

"Just some answers." Vance continued halfway down the steps and stopped, leaning against the railing. A toothpick was rolling thoughtfully between his teeth.

"It would help if I knew the questions."

Vance smiled oh-so-slightly at the familiar bad ass banter. "Agent DiNozzo."

"That's a statement, Leon."

"Okay, here's a question. Why did you let Agent DiNozzo pull that stunt?"

Jethro narrowed his eyes. "I didn't. Satisfied?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Eli's mad."

"Do I care?" Gibbs approached Leon, his eyes shooting daggers. "Do I care about the man who sent his own daughter to kill my agent? The man who then sent the brother of her dead boyfriend to take out my agent? Tony is lying in an ICU because of Eli David."

Vance's eyes narrowed imperceptibly as he responded. "Eli didn't send Samuel Rivkin to the United States."

Gibbs was taken aback. "What?"

"Rivkin was not authorized to come here by Director David. In addition to that, Eli hasn't been in contact with Ziva since you picked her up. That's too long."

"What about her control officer?" Gibbs' gut had been churning al day. Now he knew it was not just for Tony's safety that the twinges came.

It was for Ziva, too.

"Amit Hadar has also been out of contact. Something's wrong, and Eli wants our help."

"Why does he think I would help him? Even if he did not send Rivkin, he's still the one who sent Ziva."

"Eli was testing her. Wanted to see if she was loyal to Mossad. He told me about it, so I could discreetly make sure DiNozzo stayed safe. He knew Ziva would not be able to kill DiNozzo, though; he just wanted to check her honesty. He wanted her to stand up to him."

Gibbs' mouth set itself into a hard line. "This isn't for Mossad or international relations, Leon. This is for my agent." Tony or Ziva? Gibbs was not entirely sure, but right now, he did not care, either.

"Glad to have you on board." Vance extended a hand, but Gibbs ignored it and went back to his boat.

After a few minutes of Gibbs trying to ignore Vance, the silver haired agent gave in. "Are you quite through, Leon?"

"No."

"What now?" Gibbs asked, exasperated.

"Agent McGee and Ms. Scuito."

"What about them?"

"Don't you have a rule about coworkers dating? And a general rule for marriage? You gave them the _day_ off so that McGee could propose to Scuito."

"Abby doesn't work for me. And the marriage rule is a suggestion, not a guideline."

Vance sighed and opened his mouth to speak, but Gibbs stopped him. "Go away, Leon."

"Fine." Vance, somewhat surlier now, left Gibbs alone with his boat at last.

**** Dulles Take Two

Tony adjusted the bag slung over his shoulder, sticking his right hand in a pocket while he watched the screen flip through the flights. Ben Gurion… Ben Gurion… There.

His jaw set, Tony headed to the El Al flight. Screw Gibbs and his rules… Tony pshed the niggling feeling of doubt in his gut away, telling himself, _The only thing not right here is that Ziva thinks I'm dead._

A buzz by his hand alerted him to a call, and the NCIS flipped the phone open against his ear. "Boss," Tony greeted cautiously.

"DiNozzo! What the hell? I told you not to do anything stupid!"

"It's not stupid if you know what you're doing."

"Samuel Riv…"

Tony flipped the phone shut, not wanting to hear Gibbs tell him why the woman he loved had to think he was dead.

He continued slowly again towards the flight, not noticing the dark complexioned man who watched him, nodding once he passed to another figure in the uniform of a flight attendant.

Samuel Rivkin smiled. His revenge would soon be exacted, this time for good.

****

Gibbs cursed as he hung up on the dead line. He looked up to meet Abby and McGee's eyes. The two held each other unconsciously, unaware of the matching expressions of dread on their faces. "Dulles, McGee. Try and hold the flight to Ben Gurion."

Tim nodded quickly, having been made aware of part of the situation once the group had arrived at the hospital to discover Tony MIA, _again_. He dialed the airport quickly, beginning the harrying task of saving Tony and verbally sparring with airport security. The silver haired agent himself called one Leon Vance, Director of NCIS.

"Vance."

"Remember that little chat we had last night?"

"Yes, Gibbs…"

"How much weight do you pull at Mossad, exactly?"

"Get to your point"

"DiNozzo is currently boarding an El Al flight to Ben Gurion airport. We're trying to stop him at our end, but if we can't I need Mossad to pick him up at their end."

"Will do. I'll also ask Eli if he's got any new leads on Ziva."

"Took the words out of my mouth, Leon."

_Click._

**** TELEPORT

Vance smiled grimly as he hung up then dialed Eli David.

"Shalom, old friend."

:Leon! I assume your call is not social?"

"You assumed correctly. Agent Gibbs would like your help, and I would like an update on Ziva David."

"No news from her. What would Agent Gibbs like my assistance with?"

"Agent DiNozzo's en route to Tel Aviv as we speak. Can your men pick him up?"

"He is recently out of a coma, yes?"

"Correct."

"We will take good care of our agent, Leon."

_Click._

**** TELEPORT

McGee shook his head at Gibbs, angrily hanging up with the El Al flight attendant who spoke such careful English. "They won't hold the flight."

Gibbs cursed again. He stormed off, headsmacking himself as soon as he hran to his car. There was no way he would make it in time. Gibbs knew that. But he had to try… His gut churned- Rivkin had been released. There was nothing concrete to hold him on. Abby and the other scientists could only work so fast and turn up so much evidence, and so far there was not a scrap to incriminate the Israeli past a conjunctive gut feeling. Damn.

Damn, damn, damn.

A symphony of blaring car hors and screeching tires later, Gibbs was bypassing airport security, waving his badge frantically through the air as he wove his way through the busy, tightly packed crowds. "DiNozzo!" he bellowed, nearing the boarding deck for the Ben Gurion flight, but too late. The plane was already disappearing into the sky.

Damn!

**** Somewhere over the rainbow…

She tried to fight. She tried to move… To fight… To win. But, as the first two men went down, so did Ziva. _The water must have been drugged,_ she mused vaguely as her hands and feet were roughly tied and her mouth taped over. She had not really paid attention as she sipped from the bottle; her mind had been too engrossed in other things.

Ziva bgan to squirm again, but thw world swam and faded, and her body felt as though it were filled with lead.

Sometime later… she was not sure when… she groggily woke. Ziva heard quick Hebrew words, and cold water slapped her face. Spluttering and drenched, Ziva woke up fully, raising her head to see Officer Hadar grinning down at her. Bashan stood behind him, in the door of a familiar tiny room.

Wait… it was not the same cell. Close in dimension and aesthetic, but not the same.

So where was she?

And why was she bound, with Bashan and Hadar here? Should they not be untying her? Were they…

No!

The pieces fell into place.

Why Samuel was in the US.

Why her father would not speak with her.

Why Hadar had seemed overeager to get her "home".

Why Bashan, equally excited, had laughed…

They were responsible. For her, for Tony…

Tony.

Gibbs had told her…

Samuel- had he done it? Was it him?

No, Tony had been alive when Gibbs spoke of having Samuel in custody. Tony had been stable then, though…

A freak medical accident while in a coma did not seem… Tonyish. He was too much a fighter to go like that. Was he alive, then? Had Gibbs lied?

Hadar's cold voice interrupted the tangent her thoughts had taken. "No one can save you from this, Ziva David."

"I know."


	11. Smoke on the Water

Kaleidoscope

**A/N: First installment of the NCIS Triple Play (yes I have named it). Just like USA but all-new episodes. Gotta love it.**

**I love international conspiracies, too. Read on, fair fans!**

**** Back in time (Right when Ziva is released)

Samuel Rivkin smiled grimly. He knew Officer David was in the other room; it did not take a genius to figure that out. Obviously they knew she was in the United States; and obviously following her sloppy trail had led to him.

He had made sure of that.

It was part of the plan.

Bashan wanted Eli David's job, Hadar wanted Bashan's job, and Samuel wanted revenge for his brother. It was perfect. Samuel would arrange for Ziva's capture through his terrorist connections, and DiNozzo would be sent there by Eli David in an attempt to save his daughter's life. Neither would get out alive, of course; relations would be strained when it was discovered David purposely endangered the life of a now dead American agent. David would be replaced by Bashan- an expert at smoothing ruffled international feathers due to years working as the American ambassador- and Bashan would allow Hadar to fill his place, the mourning control officer of a tragically killed Mossad officer.

It was perfect.

Special Agent DiNozzo's ingenuity and the terrorists' stupidity had thrown a screwdriver into the plans, so the trio had been forced to modify them. When Hadar got wind of Eli's test for Ziva, he immediately called Bashan. Bashan had called Samuel, and the new plot was in motion.

Hadar kept Ziva "on task". Bashan planted the incendiary device in the Mossad electronics. Samuel took care of DiNozzo… As the least ambitious, Samuel made sure NCIS would believe _he_ and he alone was responsible for all of what occurred. Only so that Bashan and Hadar would be successful- Samuel was very careful, and NCIS did not have a foot to stand on if they were to attempt to prosecute him.

Samuel smirked as a NCIS agent poked his head through the door. "Agent Gibbs called. Reminded me you were in here." Rivkin hauled himself to his feet and pushed past the federal agent.

About time! Now Phase Three could begin, with DiNozzo out of the picture.

****

Samuel dialed Bashan's familiar number, listening to "Hatikvah" as he waited for Bashan to answer his phone.

"Shalom."

"Bashan. DiNozzo is alive still." Samuel paused the feed from Ziva's camera, showing Agent Gibbs handing DiNozzo a cup of coffee.

"Take care of it! We will handle David."

"I will need some of your contacts."

"I shall send you a list of my resources."

"Call me."

_Click._

As predicted, Agent DiNozzo booked a flight to Tel Aviv as soon as his visitors had left. Samuel smiled, recording the flight information DiNozzo repeated over the phone. He picked up his own phone; dialing the number Bashan had just emailed him.

A man answered on the first ring. "Isaiah Goldberg."

"I have a request for you." Samuel spoke in Hebrew.

"Who is this?" The thickly accented Hebrew voice was suspicious immediately.

"Officer Samuel Rivkin, Mossad. Bashan gave me your number."

"I heard about your brother… I think I know why you are calling. What can I do for you, Samuel Rivkin?"

"I will need a remote detonation system."

****

Samuel Rivkin stood at the information desk of the El Al flight system, watching DiNozzo talk angrily into his phone. Once the American passed Samuel's position, Samuel nodded to Goldberg.

A smile broke out unbidden across Rivkin's face as Goldberg checked again with the Mossad officer next to him, ensuring it was only the Arabic cell on the flight. No use in pointlessly killing a hundred or so Israeli citizens. The captains and stewardess would be a loss, but necessary to ensure the world was rid of the terrorists, as well as Anthony DiNozzo.

Ha!

At long last, Samuel would get his revenge.

Several minutes later, DiNozzo finally managed to achieve mutual understanding between himself and the attendant at the gate, as neither spoke the other's language well. Goldberg watched DiNozzo carefully, nodding once his face cleared.

Five minutes to take off.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One-… What was that? DiNozzo was getting off! Why? The plane was- mostly- safe… There was no reason for his possible suspicions.

Unless… it was Agent Gibbs that had called. That might have been likely, but Samuel knew that Gibbs had nothing to pin him to the events aside from his famous gut. Besides, DiNozzo had been angry with whomever he had spoken to. With that in mind, why would the American have listened to anything that came out of Gibbs' mouth, even if the NCIS team _had_ found more evidence of Samuel's involvement? There was no reason for DiNozzo to exit!

Now it was too late. DiNozzo was vanishing quickly into the crowd, and the plane was beginning to roll down the runway.

"DiNozzo!"

The roar made Samuel turn his head and return his thoughts to the here-and-now. Rivkin caught the familiar strong form and flashing silver hair of Agent Gibbs. Evidently the agent did not know DiNozzo was off the plane, because the look of horror on his face was not that of a man glad his son was safe, but that of the man whose son had just walked into his death.

And how literal that would have been!

Samuel ducked when Gibbs looked around the near-empty terminal. Having NCIS see him here might just be the scrap of evidence the American agency, and especially Gibbs, needed to pin him to the event that would occur in precisely four and a half minutes.

Forty seven seconds later, Rivkin glanced around the edge of the service counter to catch sight of Agent Gibbs walking back towards the entrance he had come in by. Samuel stood gratefully, immediately glancing across the terminal to Goldberg. The man had vanished, but that was good. That meant Phase Four had been implemented. Plan B would have to be used here on out, but that was fine. So long as the plane went down, and so long as DiNozzo died this day.

If those things happened, today would be a very good day.

**** Seven and a half minutes later

Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs flipped closed his phone after a very brief conversation with McGee. Fire had lit the Washington sky, and in his gut Gibbs knew exactly which plane had gone down. Driving maniacally, worthy of a Bond movie, Gibbs again conducted a symphony of blaring horns as he raced to the address McGee had given him. An officer on scene had been making his report of the location just as Gibbs had called McGee…

Skidding to a halt, Gibbs leapt out of the car before it even fully stopped rolling forward. He deposited the car keys in his pocket, striding over to the officer who appeared to be overseeing the scene. Flashing his badge, Gibbs spoke. "NCIS. What do you have?"

"El Al flight, no survivors. We don't know much else… Excuse me for asking, but why is NCIS interested in my scene?"

"I think it's my scene now. Why are you here, Jethro?" Both men turned to look at Fornell, his long steps carrying his across the burnt grass to where they stood. He held up his FBI badge to the officer, who nodded gratefully.

"DiNozzo was on that plane." The fire in Gibbs' voice was enough for Tobias, who nodded.

"Fair enough. I'd be here if it was one of mine." The words were professional enough, but Fornell conveyed his true sympathy by a gentle clap on the shoulder. "I have two teams speeding their way here. You?"

"Just McGee. He will probably round up Nicholson's team on the way out, though. Okay doing a joint op?"

"Fine with me. Screw our superiors."

"Suit yourself, I'm not touching Vance."

"Jethro! You know what I meant!" Fornell laughed, Gibbs' smirk telling the FBI agent Gibbs knew perfectly well what he had meant.

"Put your gloves on and get your camera, Tobias. We have work to do." Gibbs slid on a pair of latex gloves onto his hands, returning to his car to get the camera that never left his trunk. Fornell did the same, and together they silently photographed the carnage, leaving Metro P.D. to secure the scene.

****

McGee stopped short at the scene, two other government cars directly behind him- Nicholson's team. His eyes widened at the scene of wreckage before him. The smoke was visible from the Navy Yard, but that was nothing compared to it up close. Fire still burned heavily at the main body of the plane, half submerged as it was in the Potomac. Oil floating on the water burned as well and small patches of flame licked at the already scorched earth surrounding the river. Blackened and charred bodies, not resembling human beings anymore, were littered among the rubble. An overwhelming smell of barbecued flesh and burnt rubber accosted the agent's nose as he stepped out of his car, and McGee almost puked. Donning his hat, McGee ducked under the tape to join Gibbs, Fornell, and Nicholson, as well as another FBI agent he did not know.

"Lawson, updates," Fornell commanded.

The FBI agent spoke. "A total of ninety three bodies so far, very few IDs past the pilot and copilot, who are still in the cockpit.

"Any feds?" Gibbs asked.

"I have not found your man yet, Agent Gibbs."

Hope surged through McGee. Maybe Tony had gotten off the plane before it took off… Gibbs nodded tersely, drawing McGee's attention back to the situation at hand. "You let me know," Gibbs called as Lawson made his way again to the teams of MEs he was overseeing. Gibbs' jaw clenched and unclenched as he looked again at Fornell. "Tobias, please tell me that your boss is okay with us being here."

Gibbs, asking permission to do something? This day was getting stranger and stranger. "You already know the answer. I don't give a damn if my superior likes working with NCIS; as far as I'm concerned, your man makes this your scene, too."

Tim looked back and forth between the two agents and apparently friends, both of whom finally turned to stare at him. McGee was met with two glares of equal intensity, which possessed an uncanny and eerie similarity, and he gulped. "What, Tim?"

First names… It really was Kate all over again. McGee remembered the last time they had thought Tony was dead, and shuddered. That had been bad enough, but this… "I was just wondering what you wanted me to do, Boss."

A variety of emotions flitted across Gibbs' face in the space of a second, barely visible, before the older man answered. "Tim, I just want you to find that damn black box. No one's been able to yet."

With a quick nod, McGee headed towards the cockpit, which lay half in and half out of the water. That was as good a place as any to start.

Rescuers determined to find survivors and the more practical agents processed the scene far into the night. Many faces changed as the hours wore on, but three always remained the same. Tobias Fornell, Jethro Gibbs, and Timothy McGee.

**** Fourteen Hours later

Grimacing, Tony peered into the contents of McGee's refrigerator. Could Probie not ever get any good liquor? He had already gone through the cabinets, and there was not even any beer in the younger agent's fridge. God, Tony needed something to drink.

After he had traded tickets with the business man- who wanted a sooner flight to Tel Aviv than the one he had gotten- Tony had exited the terminal on the opposite side of the way he had come in by. He had taken a quick, purposeful walk through the parking lot, occasionally checking for tails, and readily arrived at his Mustang. When Tony was on the road, there was one tail, but Tony shook the little Nitro fairly easily. _Years of working with Gibbs had to pay off somehow, I guess._

He felt the explosion and saw the smoke. Instantly he knew what it was… He should never have traded tickets. This could work to his advantage, though… So the team thought he was dead. Tony was used to the feeling. Automatically he had switched courses, heading instead for McGee's apartment. Upon arrival he had pulled the key out of its hiding place and entered the messy den. Trust McGee to have a secret compartment in his door knocker. So now Tony was left Toy inside, flopped on the couch and asleep. That left Tony with exactly eleven and three-quarter hours to get updated on the case, and to find exactly where Ziva was.

Keys turning in the lock alerted Tony to Tim's arrival, as did the agent's low just-for-Abby voice. "Abby, I know… Trust me, I know… Yeah, they found him… Burned into his seat, Ducky said he felt nothing… I know, small comfort considering…" McGee's eyes almost bugged out of his head when he saw the familiar dead man staring at him from the couch. "Abby, I'm going to have to call you back… Yeah, love you, too, babe."

Tim sat delicately on the couch, next to Tony. He extended a hand silently, placing it tentatively on Tony's shoulder as if to check its realness. Tim's mouth opened and closed, fishlike. He was utterly speechless.

Tony offered a small smile to his friend. "You have the face of an angel, McGee."


	12. Super Sorry Author

Kaleidoscope

**Chapter Eleven Mix-ups**

**Sorry, y'all! I took out my original chapter six on here because it was just an A/N and it screwed up my reviews. This is to revise that so you guys can review chapter eleven if you had already reviewed chapter ten. Again, super sorry! And thanks shelle-belle for letting me know it had done that!**

**-Fox**


	13. On Your Six

Kaleidoscope

**A/N: Again, sorry for the whole screw-up with the last chapter. If you haven't reviewed yet, notice that I put up a filler (again) for it. And time for an obligatory advertisement; my sister The Big Black Panther made me promise to advertise her stuff in here. I really enjoy her stories, so go look them up and read any one of them. If she gets reviews she might actually finish one for once. Anyway, enjoy this and our two NCIS eppies tonight. NCIS The First is gonna be a doozy, huh?**

**Disclaimer: I swear I came up with the ticket switch on my own. Ben Affleck influenced me in no way. (Seriously… I did watch an eppy of NCIS that made reference to that movie last night, but I haven't seen the movie itself.)**

Ch12. On Your Six

"Tony, what the hell?" Tim demanded, finding his voice.

"Well, an angel who's been through a mulcher. Your face is all sooty and you've got bags under your eyes and you smell like an auto repair shop and you've got this funny pimple on your-"

"TONY!" McGee yelled, stopping his friend's ramble and startling even himself.

"I got off the plane. Simple." A muscle twitched in Tony's jaw; he was upset. Tim could not exactly blame him.

"But your seat…"

"Was filled by a guy who wanted a quicker flight to Tel Aviv. We traded tickets." Ah, that was what Tony felt so bad about.

Tim met Tony's eyes, noticing how tired his friend looked. "Gibbs is going to need to know you're alive."

"No." Tony clenched and unclenched one fist. "Tim, I want as few people as possible clued in. Whoever set that plane down already knows I got off; I had to shake a tail on the way here. This is safer, for everyone."

"Tony…"

"Tell me everything you found out."

Tim nodded finally, seeing the resolve in Tony's features. It made sense, and God and Tony knew that Ti did _not_ want Abby being put in harm's way.

"Ziva was sent to kill you as a test. Now she's out of contact with Mossad, and Eli David wants Gibbs' help in finding her. Her control officer, Amit Hadar, and Sam Rivkin probably have something going on together. I can't find her, Tony," he pleaded. "I just can't find her."

"You will." The conviction in his voice strengthened McGee's own resolve, and Tim stood, walking to his computer station.

"So, the Mossad office here in D.C. - based at the Embassy- is surprisingly silent. CIA is outraged we're on the plane crash, but… you were supposedly on it… and David pulled some strings to give NCIS and FBI complete jurisdiction. He likes us more than Kort. But Officer Bashan has been quiet, even though as an Israeli plane Mossad should spearhead the investigation." Tim glanced at Tony as his fingers brushed over the keys, rapping them in quick succession.

Tony stood up, pacing the room anxiously. Hands moving as he spoke, Tony conjectured, "Mossad is silent. Director David, however, is talking. His daughter's missing. Her control officer is out of contact. Her… ex-boyfriend's… brother is in the country- and not on orders from his superiors." DiNozzo whirled to face Tim. "Probie, are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Conspiracy."

"I love it when we're on a wavelength… Can you access Bashan's phone log from here?"

"By hacking."

"You have twenty minutes."

Tim refrained a snort at the Gibbsish command as Tony flopped back onto the couch. Blue lights flickered through the room, and McGee heard a ZNN reporter conjecturing about the plane crash. "Turn it off, Tony."

"It's my fault." For the first time, Tim heard all the pain and regret in Tony come out in his voice.

"No, it's not," Tim replied firmly. Looking back, Tim saw Tony was sitting in the classic Sorry Gibbs position: hands clasped, elbows resting on parted knees, spine curving to follow. The only difference was his head was up, not hanging.

"I had to _shake_ a freaking _tail_ just to get here. Don't you dare tell me I wasn't the target."

"You weren't the target," Tim replied, somewhat glibly. He had become a much better liar after so many years of working with Tony and Gibbs, and it was paying off now. Glancing at the screen, he saw the algorithms starting to fall into place; Tim smiled as his birthday present from Abby cracked through the final encryption. "Tony, I'm in."

His friend was off the couch in a second. Leaning over Tim's shoulder, Tony growled, "Pull the records up."

Tim pressed a few commands and the phone logs were visible. "Looks like he called two numbers repeatedly. Hey, he got a call from one just a minute before the plane crash!"

"Trace it," Tony commanded.

"You're channeling Gibbs again," McGee mused as he back traced the cell phone. "Prepaid cell phone. Can't get any more than that. Whoever bought it paid for international calls, though."

"Burn phone." Tony straightened up. "Rivkin."

**** The Basement

Leroy Jethro Gibbs paced restlessly, his right and left hands stroking in turn the smooth wood of his skeletal boat. Tobias Fornell sat on a sawhorse, sipping bourbon and watching his friend. "Relax, Jethro," Tobias finally put out. The words hung heavily in the dead air.

"I've lost two agents in the course of two weeks. One is _dead_ and the other is God-knows-where _missing_!" Angrily, Gibbs wheeled on Fornell. "We got kicked out of a crime scene, Tobias!"

"Because we were there for fifteen hours!" Fornell exclaimed. "I haven't slept in twenty, and I know it's been longer for you. We were taken off that scene because we couldn't do our _jobs_ anymore." They were in each other's faces, nose to nose, anger flaring in both their eyes.

Jethro studied Tobias with his wide-eyed, quizzical gaze. Finally he nodded, stepping back and raising his hands in supplication. "What's done is done."

"Can't change the past," Fornell agreed.

"But you can the future…" Determination dawned on Jethro, and he strode to the phone. "I have to make a phone call."

"Tim McGee." McGee answered on the first ring. Jethro heard a slight strain of nerves in the young man's voice.

"Tim, can you do something for me?"

A clattering sound told Jethro that Tim had dropped the phone. As McGee fumbled to recover it, Gibbs could have sworn he heard McGee hissing, "Oh shit, it's the boss!" Tim cleared his throat a moment later. "Uh, Boss, hey. What do you need?"

"Find Ziva."

Tim let out his breath. "On it, Boss."

"And get some sleep." Gibbs hung up before Tim could reply. He glanced back at Tobias, who was smirking slightly. "What?"

"You should take your own advice. Neither of us are doing anyone any good by staying awake."

Gibbs downed the cold, sawdust-filled cup of coffee defiantly. "If you want to sleep, that's fine. I have a guest bedroom."

Shaking his head, Fornell let out a heavy sigh. "I need to go. By the time I get home, it'll be time to take my little girl to school." He clapped Gibbs' shoulder, silently apologizing for everything. "Get some rest, Jethro."

**** McProbie's house

Tony and Tim stared at each other. "That was a little…"

"Odd?" Tony supplied.

"Yeah."

Releasing a heavy sigh, Tony said, "Let's just hope the Boss didn't hear you curse for the first time in your working career."

Grimacing, Tim agreed, returning his attentions to the computer screen. A series of beeps punctuated the air, and McGee groaned.

"What is it?" Tony asked, peering in confusion at the rows of coding.

"This phone number. I can't get into it."

Tony's brow furrowed. "That's Rivkin's, right? I thought you said it was untraceable, anyway."

"Untraceable is a relative question. Of the two numbers Bashan called or was called by the most frequently, this is the one with the lesser encryptions, so I thought I would…" He stared at Tony's blank face. "You don't care. Anyway, every time I get into it, it throws something new at me. I can't access it from here."

Tony narrowed his eyes, sensing what was coming. "Tim, no. We can't call her."

"Tony, you know as well as I do that Abby has the most powerful non-super computer in the D.C. area."

"Yeah, _at_ NCIS!" Tony argued.

Gazing sympathetically at Tony, McGee nodded. "You want to find Ziva, don't you?"

Begrudgingly, Tony agreed for Tim to make the call. "Don't tell her _anything_, alright?"

"You know I won't." Tim dialed the familiar number, putting his desk phone on speaker so Tony could hear.

Abby picked up on the third ring. "It's seven thirty. You said you would call back… two hours ago," she complained.

"I had a… situation… to deal with," he explained simply, trying not to stumble over the words. "Abby, can you run a number for me? Later, if you're not at your lab right now?" Tony and McGee looked at each other, both men silently praying for the same thing: that Abby was at her lab.

"Love you too, Timmy," Abby commented sarcastically. "What's the number and why can't you crack it from your place and why are you not sleeping like you should be right now?"

Tim let out a sigh of relief. He fed off the number, adding quietly, "The encryptions are too strong." He decided to ignore her last question.

They could practically hear Abby grimace as she started. "What on earth are you up to, Timmy?"

"Looking for Ziva."

"El Jefe's orders?" Abby inquired.

"Sort of," Tim replied, glancing at Tony. Tony smiled grimly, leaning heavily on the desk. Weariness was beginning to show in his face.

"Sort of?" Abby demanded. "Well, whomever's they are, I'm on it. We should be in in… half an hour."

"Great," Tim said. "Call me when you have it. Love you."

"Love you, too."

Tony hung up for McGee. Silence settled over the pair of them, heavy and suffocating, before Tony finally spoke. "It'll take you about half an hour to get to the Navy Yard."

"I'm not leaving you alone," Tim protested.

Laughing drily, Tony looked at McGee, an amused smirk plastered on his face. "I can take care of myself. Go visit your fiancée."

Reluctantly, Tim agreed. "Just… call if you need me. I have your six, Tony."

"Thanks, Probie. Now go! Shoo!" Tony flicked his hands as McGee left the apartment. "Oh, Probie!"

"Yeah, Tony?"

"Get some whiskey while you're out, will you?"

Sighing, Tim closed and locked the door. And Tony was alone again… The laughter on his face was quickly replaced by a set expression of determination, and DiNozzo picked up the phone.

Time for a heart to heart with Sam.

**** Sammy

Samuel Rivkin's burn phone buzzed against his leg, where it rested in his pocket. Whipping the device out, Samuel looked at the caller ID. The number did not come up with a name, but the area ode was D.C. He answered testily in Hebrew. "Who is this? How did you get this number?"

"My Hebrew sucks, Sam." DiNozzo! _That_ was the last voice Samuel had expected, but it was not unwelcome.

He answered in English. "So nice to hear from you, Agent DiNozzo."

"_Special_ Agent."

"Very well. Why did you call, _Special_ Agent DiNozzo?"

There was a dry chuckle on the other end. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Many men would not care to speak to the one who would be their death, Special Agent DiNozzo."

"Maybe I like facing my death."

"You did not call to chitchat." Samuel was growing annoyed with NCIS's games.

"You're right." DiNozzo paused. "My apartment. Forty minutes."

The line went dead.

****

Tony pressed on the gas of the Mustang that Charlie had never picked up. He had to get here before Rivkin. There were some things he had to do… Slamming to a stop, Tony dashed to his errands, quickly preparing for Rivkin's imminent arrival. He paused for a moment inside the apartment, his eyes lighting momentarily at a photograph of himself and Ziva laughing together at the bar. Abby had taken it. Tony's jaw clenched, and he hastily scribbled a few words on a Post-It note before sticking the yellow square to the outside of the door. Moving into his bedroom, Tony dug out some things he would need, all the while listening for the door.

**** Abby's Lab

Tim stepped into the uncannily quiet laboratory, noticing the lights were on and the computer was working on hacking Rivkin's phone logs, but his beautiful Goth was nowhere to be found. "Abby?" he called softly, moving through to the office with slow, deliberate steps. "Abby, honey?"

Gentle sobbing betrayed her presence, and Tim moved to sit beside her where she was hiding beneath her desk. Tim circled an arm around Abby, pulling her close against his side. "Sh, it's okay. It's okay," he murmured, lips pressing into her black hair.

Shifting, Abby pressed her face into the crook of Tim's neck as she snaked her arms around him. Tears moistened his skin as she whimpered, "No, it's not okay. Tony's dead, Ziva's missing…"

Tim's jaw clenched ever-so-slightly as he remembered the secret he had been entrusted with keeping, something Abby did not fail to notice. However, his only words were, "Abby, we can fix half of that. We can find Ziva and bring her home." _Tony has to do his own fixing._

Lips tightening in resolve, Abby unmelted herself from Tim's side and sat up. "Okay," she breathed. "Let's do this."

She looked at Tim, smiling at her fiancé and pecking his lips quickly before crawling out form under her desk. Tim followed her, watching her stride confidently to her computer terminals. Coming up to stand behind her, Tim comfortingly rubbed her shoulders as she typed furiously. Abby turned and smiled before enveloping Tim into a big hug. "Thank you so much, Timmy. For everything."

He smiled in return, pulling her into a tight embrace as he looked over her shoulder at the computer screen. A ding sounded and the call log popped up, and McGee studied it. When he saw the most recent call, Tim's jaw dropped. "Abby, I gotta go, I'm sorry," he rushed, extricating himself from her arms and rushing to his car.

Abby dropped her arms, staring after her love before returning her red rimmed eyes to the phone log. Her head whipped back around to the door McGee had vanished through. "Timmy, why were you calling this guy?" she called, knowing very well he could not hear her. That man would have some explaining to do.

****

Rivkin took the stairs two at a time, trying to get up as fast as possible without using the elevator. Elevators were too easy to booty trap. Brown eyes absorbing his surroundings with the ease of long practice, the dark-skinned Israeli carefully slid down the hall to DiNozzo's fifth floor apartment. _There it is,_ he thought, slinking towards the door gun drawn. A yellow sticky square caught his attention, and Samuel stood up to read it.

_Door's open bastard. Come on in._

Hah! Typical American scum. Samuel placed his hand on the knob, turning it carefully and stepping into the rather messy apartment. Keeping his gun up, Sam paced the room, looking for DiNozzo. Rustling behind one closed door betrayed the American's location. Approaching the door softly, Rivkin intended to swing it open and shoot DiNozzo right then and there. The American would not live past this night.

The door swung open quickly and Sam found himself loking down the barrel of DiNozzo's weapon, though DiNozzo found himself in the same position from Samuel. A smirk spread across DiNozzo's face, and he raised his left hand while setting his weapon on the ground. "Hang on, Sammy. Now that we both know we're serious, let me talk."

Eyes narrowed, Samuel beckoned for DiNozzo to stand. As the man rose, Samuel hissed, "I should shoot you where you stand."

"Not a good idea, Sammy." DiNozzo jerked his head to the open window, where directly across the street Samuel could see a light was on and a dark figure loomed in the window. "Agent Gibbs. As soon as you so much as _look_ at me the wrong way, you die."

"What do you want?"

A single barking laugh escaped DiNozzo's lips. "What do you think I want? I want you to tell me _exactly_ where Ziva David is."

"What if I do not know?"

"You know where she is. The only question is, when will you break? See, I would rather it be sooner than later, because there are certain advantages to being a dead man that I would like to keep." DiNozzo spread his hands, grinning as he added, As it is, what choice do you have? NCIS already has enough to put you behind bars for life."

Rivkin searched the American's face for any sign of a lie, but found none. Finally he snarled, "You are truly a dead man, Anthony DiNozzo." He pulled back the hammer, but paused at the smirk on DiNozzo's face.

"No, Sam. You are." Tony snapped his hand up, knocking the gun aside as it fired, and Rivkin found himself slammed into the ground from behind, a knee on his back. "Knew you had my six, Probie!" DiNozzo crowed triumphantly.

Cuffing Samuel roughly, McGee snarked, "You're still an idiot, DiNozzo. Wait until Gibbs finds out what you've done!"

"You can tell him once I'm gone, alright? For now, let's just get what we need out of this man." Tony helped Tim hoist Samuel into a kitchen chair. "Remember when you told me I was dead? Yeah, I hear that a lot," Tony whispered as he bound Rivkin to the chair.

Tim leaned in front of Samuel. "We just need to know where Ziva David is, please."

Rivkin smiled wryly. "Why would I tell you, little man?"

"Maybe you won't tell me, but you'll sure as heck tell DiNozzo."

"And why, exactly, would I do that?"

Tony slammed the butt of his gun into Rivkin's face, leaning in dangerously as Tim stepped back. "I can't be prosecuted for brutality if I'm not alive."

Samuel spat blood from his mouth, meeting Tony's steely green gaze with hooded brown eyes.

****

"Where is this?" Ziva rasped, her already chapped lips and sore throat making speech truly difficult.

Hadar was simply... torturing her. He was not attempting to gain information, nor was he trying to teach Ziva a lesson on failure as her father had taught her during her training. Her captor was simply beating her senseless each day, prolonging her pain to the point where she was sure she would burst, and Ziva screamed. Long and loud, putting into each one all the rage and loss and suffering she had felt every second in every fiber of her being, knowing Tony was dead and had died believing she betrayed him.

"We are here. That is all you need to know."

Three... Three days, she thought, since Tony had died. About two, then, in this place, with this being her third. Three days of pure torture, both mental and physical, thre days of agony knowing there was nothing left to live for and still she could not die. Why, then, did this continue? How could she continue to _let_ herself live in this hellhole, this room her world had shrunk to? "Kill me," she whispered as the pain began anew, the butt of his cigar searing the flesh of her upper arm.

"Not yet. It is not yet your time to die."

****

Agony.

One word, release. "Palestine."


	14. 007

Kaleidoscope

**A/N: You guys had better be impressed by my mechanical writing skillz. By the beginning of yesterday I only had three sheets of notebook paper filled on this and I managed to expand that to seven and a half by the end of the day. Mm, it's so fun to guilt trip Tony, though; he gets all angsty. And the "real" NCIS is tainting me; I hate Eli again, the bastard! I'll try not to pop my own idyllic bubble, though.**

**Oh, and "Marine" readers (which sees to be most of you) I am ALMOST done with ch12. Give me until this afternoon (my time) and it will be done, I have school etc. so it will be a bit but not too long. Sorry for the extra long A/N, but just one more thing.**

**I WANT FREAKIN' REVIEWS! SO HIT THE BUTTON AT THE BOTTOM!**

Ch13. 007

Tony flipped through the pages of the magazine idly, not really paying attention to the words ad pictures on the glossy pages. As hard as he tried to focus on anything, his mind kept coming back to focus on her face. Even though he knew logically that he could not have done anything to help her over the past few days, he could not help but feel that this was all his fault. He should have been able to keep her close. He should have held her tight and not let go. He should never have let her return to Israel. He should never have let her out of his sight. He should have dragged her, kicking and screaming, back to D.C. He should have kept her with him at all times. He should have kept a closer eye on Mossad, because God how he knew they were not to be trusted. He should have been there. He should have protected her.

He should have known.

Unable to hold it back, Tony let out a long, raucous laugh, drawing odd looks from the other passengers of the plane. He had to love it! For so many years of knowing Ziva, Tony had hated Eli David. Now, after the events of recent days- beginning of the summer excluded- Tony was teaming up with the man to save Ziva. Tony had the where, Eli had the how, and neither was taking "no" as an answer for their involvement. So, they were doing it together.

Tony flashed back to the conversation.

**** 2 ½ hours earlier

Tony rinsed his hands, watching blood wash down the drain in a vivid crimson swirl. It had been easier than expected, to get her location out of Rivkin. A few well-placed blows, some softly murmured words about the night Tony wished he could forget- the night it had all gone to hell- and Rivkin cracked like a nut. Tony supposed the man had not wanted to relive the pain that had come with his brother's death, and Tony did not blame him. After all, Tony did not want to relive it, either, albeit for different reasons. He _needed_ this information, though. He had to know where Ziva was.

Now that he knew…

He could feel Tim's eyes on him. Tony knew the Probie was frightened by what he had seen, the dark side Tony hid so well and wished he could erase completely. That one muscle in his jaw twitched, just a little sign to let Tim know he was ashamed of what he had done. Rivkin was still alive, equally silent as the two agents; though, that may have been from the duct tape over his mouth.

Briefly, the thought crossed Tony's mind that he would get in a lot of trouble for this when he resurfaced. A wry smile twisted at the corner of his mouth; after all, it was not like NCIS had enough to hold Rivkin., much less prosecute him. The man would be shipped back to Israel, and there he would be dealt with by his own people. That would be worse than anything Tony could ever bring himself to do.

It didn't make Tony feel any less guilty, though.

Suddenly, a loud, grating _brrring_ pierced the air, rubbing on the already raw nerves of both Tony and Tim. Releasing the breath Tony did not realize he had been holding, Tony walked slowly to his still-ringing land line. "Why is someone calling my place? I thought I was pretty well dead."

"I'll answer it." Tim pushed past Tony and picked up the phone. "NCIS," he answered. "Tim McGee."

"Put DiNozzo on the line. He is standing next to you, yes?" Tim did not recognize the Israeli voice on the other end.

He glanced at Tony. "It's for you."

"What?" Tony asked, startled.

"Israeli voice. Could be important."

"Give." Tony took the phone as Tim handed it to him, and moved to the open window. He was glad right now for the cordless window as he peered around the city for someone who would be able to see into the apartment. "DiNozzo."

"So the dead man _does_ talk." Tony gritted his teeth as the all-too-familiar smirking voice of Eli David accosted his ear.

"And he walks, too. What do you want?"

"I just thought I would follow a hunch."

"I know where your daughter is," Tony murmured, scanning the skyline again quickly before retreating from the window.

There was an intake of breath. "Where?"

"No. Before I say, you have to promise me that I can go with your team. I'll even pay for my own flight to Tel Aviv… which works, since I already have one booked."

Eli David growled, "You are _not_ going to slow down my kidon unit by joining them."

"Then you won't find her, especially as the only other people who know where she is besides the ones with her are standing in this room with me. Well, one of them's sitting." Tony glanced at Rivkin.

"You have Samuel Rivkin?"

"Yessirree." Tony smirked at the look he could imagine on Eli David's face. "So, still want me to stay behind? 'Cause, you don't really have a choice. My flight leaves in an hour and a half."

Eli sighed, resigned to DiNozzo's presence. "Where is she?"

"When I get there. Shalom, Eli." Tony hung up, tossing the phone randomly onto his couch as he turned to face McGee. "Drive us to the airport, Probie."

Tim's eyes flicked between Tony and Rivkin before he nodded. "All right. Let's go, then."

****

Tony looked next to him, at the window sea where one Samuel Rivkin was. Samuel glanced over, his dark eyes still burning with hatred as he subconsciously held his possibly broken right arm close. A smile threatening to split across his face, Tony could not help but tease. "Aw, come on, Sam! I uncuffed you, didn't I?"

"If I move without permission, you shoot me."

"I can afford to." He sobered up. "It's not like I have to be scared of Eli David." Something flashed across Rivkin's face at the mention of Ziva's father. Fear, and… triumph? Tony returned his non attention to the magazine once more, now pondering that strange expression.

Fear was easy enough to place. Samuel was on a plane with the man who had killed his brother, on his way to see the man whose daughter he was responsible for placing in danger. That man also happened to be the head of the most deadly intelligence agency in the world. Triumph, however, was a little more difficult to pinpoint. _It must be because of Bashan,_ Tony reflected. _The conspiracy must have to do with David in some way._

Heaving a sigh through his aching body, Tony pushed that line of thinking out of his head. There was a time and a place for everything, and three thousand feet in the air on the way to see a man who hated you was neither the time nor the place to have a panic attack due to thinking about Ziva's state. Tony leaned back against the seat, ignoring the pain in his chest, green eyes flashing over to glance quickly at Rivkin before returning forwards and flickering closed.

Then the dreams began.

**** D.C.

Tim shifted in his seat, watching the elevator doors _ding_ open and Ducky emerge. Gibbs looked up expectantly as Ducky entered the bullpen, which was sans its two most vibrant occupants. "My preliminary autopsy is complete, Jethro. I believe you may be surprised by the results." Brandishing his clipboard, Ducky approached Gibbs' desk.

"What've you got, Duck?"

McGee's eyes flashed between the two older men. Would Ducky have noticed the presumably unscarred lungs of this man? Would he have realized the body in his morgue was not Tony? "Should we get Abby?" he asked quickly, picking up his phone. He knew that no matter what Ducky had noticed, Abby would want to be here.

"Abby is here," chirped his fiancée, dashing into the bullpen and tugging Tony's desk chair over to Tim and taking a seat. She looked up at Ducky. "Ready, Duckman."

Tim studied her carefully in the moment before Ducky began his report. For all intensive purposes she appeared composed, but there were little signs that let Tim know otherwise. Her mascara had run a little bit and her eyes were still tinged red, betraying her sobs from earlier. Her black hair, usually so sleek in its braids, was pulled back in one low, frizzy ponytail, something which looked odd on her. Her clothes were wrinkled, and Tim knew she must have slept in her lab during the few hours before Tim returned to NCIS from… Tony's.

Ducky began to speak, and Tim averted his eyes to the old M.E. "I have some good news and some bad news. The good news is that this man is not Tony. His upper jaw, mostly intact, does not match the teeth on file for Tony, ad his lungs are impeccable."

A shriek of joy escaped Abby's lips, and she gripped Tim's hand tightly. For himself, Tim smiled faintly, trying to act appropriately joyful but knowing he was not being successful. Gibbs shot Tim an odd look before glancing at Abby then back up at Ducky.

"What's the bad news?" the senior agent asked.

"This means we still have no idea where Tony is." Ducky met Gibbs' blue eyes, both men thinking the same thing. _Where the hell is he?_ Well, Ducky would not have sworn, but Gibbs was another story.

Gibbs then turned his attention to McGee and Abby. Abby's face had settled into an expression somewhere between joy and horror, and she clenched McGee's hand tightly with both of her own. Tim could only manage to look nervous, uncomfortable, and out-of-place. He couldn't help but gulp slightly as Gibbs icy blue eyes narrowed, but relaxed noticeably when Gibbs looked back to Ducky.

"Find out who it is, then," he said simply.

Abby's cool hands slipped away from Tim's and she kissed him quickly before dashing off after Ducky. "The Duckster will need me!" she called behind her as explanation.

He smiled weakly as she marched off, before Gibbs was in his face and all emotions except fear were wiped from his features. "Boss," he gasped weakly.

"What happened to him?" Gibbs growled.

****

_Blood._

_So much blood._

_Pain…_

_Pounding, pulsing through his body._

_Body thudding to the ground, blood seeping from the four bullet wounds in its chest._

_Cool gunmetal in his hand, smoke still seeping from the barrel._

_Her face…_

_Pain._

_Too much pain._

Tony tossed restlessly in his sleep, crying out occasionally as he relived the events that had brought him to this point. In his nightmare sleep, he did not notice Rivkin's hand slipping to the laptop Tony had in a bag at his feet.

**** D.C.

"I don't know what you mean, Boss," Tim whispered, feeling suddenly very out-of-breath.

"Like _hell_ you don't," Gibbs snarled, leaning in enough that Tim had to scoot back in his rolling chair.

Tim tried to defend himself, but all that came out of his mouth was a sort of strangled squeak.

Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs' icy blue eyes narrowed into tiny, frightening daggers as he hissed, "I'll take that badge in a heartbeat."

"Y-You wouldn't dare," Tim stuttered, tripping over the words.

"I would, and you know it."

They were practically nose to nose now, and McGee could smell the caffeine on Gibbs' breath. He tried to scoot back again, but his chair hit the wall as Gibbs stalked, following Tim back. They locked eyes for a full minute and a half before Tim caved.

"He came to me. I got home from the scene and he was _on my couch_. I thought I was having a nightmare… But it was real. He switched tickets with some businessman, and that's who's in the morgue. Don't know his name. Tony- Tony and I came up with a theory, that Bashan and Rivkin and maybe Hadar were in on this big plot, responsible for Ziva and Tony and the plane, and-…" Tim paused, not sure if he should relay the things Tony had done next to Gibbs. He finally settled for an abridged, G rated, "We found out where Ziva is."

Gibbs studied McGee's slightly guilty but determined face, and stepped back, nodding. He respected Tony's secrets… Again, after all, Gibbs knew what revenge was like. "So where is he now?"

"Uh," Tim began, nervous again, "Probably about halfway to Israel, to meet with Director David."

"Bastard," Gibbs swore, wheeling around and stalking towards the stairs. Tony or David, Tim did not know. Maybe both.

****

Gibbs slammed into Vance's office, and the Director of NCIS jumped up in surprise. "I suppose there's a reason for your visit, Agent Gibbs?"

"I want an MTAC feed to Tel Aviv."

Dark eyes narrowed, Vance asked in a tone laden with suspicion, "Why? I'll patch you through, but Eli already has the help he needs."

Gibbs drew in his breath before snarling angrily, "You _knew_?"

"Eli called me after he talked to DiNozzo."

"And you _didn't_ tell _me_?!" Gibbs roared.

"Calm down. I just got back from sorting this whole mess out with the CIA." Vance picked up his phone, looking towards Gibbs as his finger hovered over the keypad. "Would a phone call suffice, Gibbs?"

"Face to face." Gibbs slipped easily back into his cool, "bad ass", use-as-few-words-as-necessary self.

"MTAC is that way." Vance gestured to the door, and Gibbs gladly left.

****

Tony blinked slowly as a woman's voice roused him into consciousness. _Ziva…_ No. The lilt of an accent was there, but this voice was somehow softer, more "feminine" than Ziva's husky, alluring voice. This was the flight attendant, asking if he would like anything to drink.

His green eyes studied the Israeli, not really seeing her, but thinking of how Bond-ish this whole situation was. From Israel, with love.

"Martini. Shaken, not stirred."

**Editz: I changed "stewardess" to "flight attendant" just for you, Emmy! Be happy, I love you! Oh, and for those of you who check constantly, I shan't be updating until the show picks back up, which gives me an excuse to get a chapter or so ahead.**


	15. Fragments

Kaleidoscope

**A/N: Ohmigosh, I am so incredibly sorry for the incredibly overlong delay. I've had most of the words on paper for some time, but I am finding it hard to finish. I'm still not done, but I realized that this most recent wall I've hit is a good chapter stopping place. I'd intended for this to be the last chapter, but what works****,**** works. This is also a good story ending place, though very angsty and not at all what I had in mind; review with feedback for if Y'ALL want this to be the last chapter or not.**

**Disclaimer: Never been to Palestine, so details there are what I would presume to be true.**

Chapter 15: Fragments

**** A small village in Palestine

Ahmid looked up from his book, eyes widening at what he saw. The helicopter's blades _whirr_ed violently, stirring the sands and flattening the scanty grass which Ahmid's goats had momentarily been chewing at, but now the goats ran back towards the corral, back in the village. Ahmid slammed closed the cover of the American math textbook a soldier had given him, and gripped it tightly under one arm as he ran towards town. He only spared one look back, to where the black helicopter floated above the ground like a vicious hawk. Ropes descended, and thrtee heavily armed men descended from the belly of the hawk. Ahmid ran harder.

****

Mossad Officer Ben-Gurion slammed catlike onto the ground, knees flexing him into a crouch before he took off, barely glancing to either side to check for his flanking companions. Slinging the automated weapon off his back, Ben-Gurion tucked it securely against his shoulder as he ran. The target building was in sight- an out-of-place concrete bunker which Ben-Gurion and the other Israelis could tell ran underground. If Ben-Gurion had time for reflection, he would use the opportunity to focus on the monotonous pound of his and his partners' feet, and the abscence of Anthony DiNozzo. As it were, the kidon warrior had no time for reflection. As it were, Ben-Gurion gave not a damn where Anthony DiNozzo was. The United States agent had turkeyed out; there was all there was to it. Talked big, but when the time came for action he was gone.

Hah. They did not need him, anyway.

Ben-Gurion fired several rounds from his weapon, registering in the back of his secretly satisfied mind the screams and terrified yelps of the villagers. He knew his men would be rounding them up, leaving the senior officer to collect the package. Ben-Gurion kicked in the bunker's wooden door, expecting to see dim lamplight illuminating a stairwell descending into the bowels of the bunker; a table and maybe a few chairs where Hadar and perhaps Bashan sat; another chair where David would be bound.

What he did not expect to see, was a bunker filled with barrels of fresh water and piles of preserved food.

**** Tel Aviv

Hadar and Bashan were getting cocky. Overconfident. Egotistical... Well, that was not a change, but it was worse. Whatever way you put a spin on it, the arrogant bastards had turned stupid.

After a split second of thought, Tony had made a decision which he hoped was a sound one. He had decided that if he were a crazy madman bent on Mossad domination, he would hide in the one place no one would think to look. Home base. Tel Aviv. So... Tony just sent a reply to Hadar's message. Which, in and of itself the fact that he _knew_ Rivkin had contacted Hadar was sloppy on their part, but the stupidest slash dumbest slash most idiotic thing Hadar did was _believe_ Tony was Rivkin and reply.

Now... Tony sat in a Tel Aviv bar, across the street from the cafe he was supposedly meeting Hadar at. Tony "would not show", then he would plant a GPS on Hadar's vehicle and follow to where she was.

Green eyes picked up an unusually dusty SUV, and a grim face broke into a knowing smile. It began.

****

Ziva slipped in and out of consciousness, the beating Hadar delivered earlier having caught up to her. That was why she originally discredited the knocking as another figment of her worn, illusioned imagination. However, it persisted until she heard Hadar angrily slam the door open, yelling Arabic curses to the air. She could not actually _see_ what was going on, as a closed door separated her from the main room.

"Well, if it isn't mister Amit Hadar!"

Vaguely she thought to snap her head up at the familiar tenor voice, but her mind- both rational and irrational parts- pushed the desire away. He was dead.

_Then this must be a vivid dream…_

"DiNozzo!" Hadar spat, uttering the three syllables with the same violence of the curses. The click of weapons being drawn- Hadar's revolver, undoubtedly.

A thump, slightly metallic, told her that… _someone_- she refused to name him even to herself- had set down his own weapon. Ziva could envision the incredulous look on Hadar's face when _he_ said, "'That's the good part of dying; when you've nothing to lose, you can run any risk you want.'"

"Oh, but you have too much to lose, Agent DiNozzo. Your life, your reputation, the life of the woman you came to save.

Chills ran up and down Ziva's spine at the implications of the words he had quoted. _Fahrenheit 451_, if she remembered her American literature correctly. He had admitted to not caring if he escaped alive as long as his mission was done, though it seemed to have flown over Hadar's head.

"I'm not sure you understand… I don't intend on getting out of here alive. See, I already called your Director, and he knows where I am. There's a team on the way. They should be here soon. And… well… my priority is in the other room."

Ziva picked up the faint sounds of Hadar sucking in breath, preparing to respond. The next few seconds, however, were filled with a _crash_ and a gunshot. Eyes wide, she stared at the wall ahead.

She could not lose him again. You could not kill a ghost, correct? For that was what she was sure the specter who burst into her prison, cut her free, and scooped her fragile body up gently, must be. A ghost.

"Tony." The name choked itself out of her throat, catching in the building tears.

****

She missed the warmth of his body, missed being cradled against his chest, missed the rhythmic beating of his heart against her ear, missed his gentle quiet murmuring. That had lasted as long as his mad dash to the vehicle had been, no more than a minute, and now she lay in the back seat. Already she craved his touch again.

"Pick up, pick up, pick UP, dammit!" Tony's voice cut through her fevered mind, and gradually, Ziva forced herself to focus on the words he hissed quietly into the phone. "Come on… Come on… Come-… Yes! Yes, this is DiNozzo… Uh huh… Yeah, okay, I'll hold." There was a pause, during which Ziva could faintly hear music. "Eli!... Yeah, I know I bailed on your little rescue party, but for good reason. Ziva's in my back seat… Yes, our agreement stands… Up to her."

_Click._

Ziva took a shaky breath, and Tony's eyes immediately darted to the rearview mirror, green eyes filled with concern. "What is up to me?" she rasped.

"Zee, don't talk. Not until you get some of this in you." No further words were needed as he passed a canteen of water back to her. Ziva took it silently, sitting up and taking a long swig of the cool liquid.

"What is up to me?" Ziva repeated, her voice clearer and stronger.

Tony bit his lip, eyes carefully studying as much of her body as he could see in the mirror. She could see his face darken with every injury he took in.

"Tony." Tentatively, her shaking hand pulled his head to face her. "What is up to me?"

The corner of his mouth quirked a bit, but his eyes fell down and returned to the road. "If you stay with Mossad, or return to NCIS." _And me._

He did not need to say it. Ziva knew.

Wordlessly, she ran her hand down his arm, trying to comfort both of them but knowing she failed miserably at both counts.

**** NCIS Headquarters

Gibbs paced the office restlessly, growling occasionally. His hands were tied- he could do nothing. Tony was on his own. Abby and McGee sat on the couch, Abby biting her nails and Tim silently rubbing circles on the small of her back. Vance sat, stonelike, at his desk.

Finally, Abby's quavering voice broke the tense silence. "Is he gonna be OK, Gibbs?"

"I don't know where the hell he is," Gibbs growled, pausing his restless pacing for a moment to stare at the Director.

Vacne shook his head. "I don't know, either. All I know is that he abandoned Eli's rescue team. Past that, Eli and I are in the dark."

**** Tel Aviv

Tony glanced at the back seat as he pulled to a stop in the parking lot of Mossad's office. She had drifted back to sleep… Her body was relaxed like it was when she slept deeply, but her eyes flicked constantly beneath her eyelids and a faint whisper occasionally escaped her lips.

Whimper… Hadar had done a number on Ziva, sure enough. Good thing he had a hole in his forehead to match the one where his heart should be.

Clambering out, Tony walked to the back seat and opened the door. Gently, he took her in his arms, resisting the urge to bury his face in her hair and slide to the ground as he carried her to her father.

****

Eli David kept his face a set mask as he watched DiNozzo hand Ziva to the doctors. He used the opportunity to study them as well as himself; he saw how Ziva's hand, even unconsciously, gripped at DiNozzo's shirt and the way DiNozzo's face remained as stone and emotionless as his own, and he felt how he, Ziva's father, seemed an intruder on this, a private moment. These things were not good.

Eli David had known his daughter's feelings, but only a small portion of the full scale. Her distress last May was nothing to the here and now.

Eli David had known DiNozzo's feelings- the man's emotions were written all over his face, his mask transparent and his affection blatant. However, this was to a farther extent than the intelligence master oculd have ever foreseen.

Eli David needed to keep his daughter. She was his only living child, his protégé. She knew too much to go. If Ziva chose this Catholic and the Americans over him, her flesh and blood, then eli knew he would never see her again.

Whether it was by her choice or his.

Tony DiNozzo turned to face Eli once Ziva disappeared through the door to the office. A ghost of a smile flitted across his features as he met Eli's dark eyes, so like Ziva's but harder. "Eli, I'll be off now, if you don't mind."

Eli did not hide the triumph on his face, but asked anyway. "And what of our agreement?"

"She's already chosen. You had her choose when you put me on your _hit list,_ fake or not." DiNozzo wheeled on one heel and took two steps towards the door before Eli got out a response.

He was curious, "Why did you come, then?"

"'Sometimes the heart just wants what it wants,'" Tony murmured, quoting a conversation from so long ago. DiNozzo continued out, closing the door quietly behind him.

**** D.C. (Dulles Airport)

Tony pulled out and turned on his cell phone, not bothering to listen to his dozens of voicemails. He just pressed "2" on his speed dial, listening to one ring before the familiar gruff bark. "Gibbs."

"I don't have a car, Boss."

"Who says I'm your Boss anymore?" Gibbs growled, and Tony heard relieved sighs in the background.

"Well, _you_ won't fire me," Tony snarked. He smiled in relief when Gibbs hung up a moment later. Sometimes his boss was so easy to read.

Exactly forty minutes later, Tony sat in Gibbs' car, watching the city flash quickly by. He pressed his forehead against the glass window, trying to ignore the heat of Gibbs' stare. Tick… Tick… Tick… Tick…

Tick…

Tick…

Tock.

"Tony."

"Boss."

"What the hell?"

Tony opened his mouth, and it came out. The whole story from the moment he'd laid eyes on that photograph of a burnt Ziva in her burnt apartment, everything he had seen and heard and felt, how badly he wanted Ziva here, with him, where her home should be, but how glad he was it was over. "I'm just glad to be back, Boss. Stateside. Maybe… maybe life can go back to normal, now."

"In three months, anyway." Gibbs had been silent the whole time, but Tony could see the shadow of a smile. Gibbs was just as happy Tony was back.

Wait! Three months!?

"What?" Tony exclaimed, startled.

Gibbs' blue eyes flicked to Tony's chest, where a bandage was visible under his shirt. "Vance's condition for you to keep your job."

Tony sighed heavily, but nodded in agreement as the car pulled into the NCIS garage. "Thanks, Boss."

Both of them knew Tony did not mean the ride. Gibbs nodded, and they walked into the building in silent companionship.

****

**Seriously, Review if you think this should be the last chapter. Or if you think I need to finish like I had planned.**


	16. Happy Ending

Kaleidoscope

**A/N: Ok guys, I am so sorry for the wait. Just, it was so hard for me to write, plus I kinda started getting back into writing my own novel, soooo… Anyway, to make up for some of it, I have a little contest for y'all. As some of you may have noticed, I sneak in little allusions to other tv shows or episodes of NCIS. Here, I have included six that I know of. Submit me a review with the section of text, so I know what you be talking about, and where the reference is from. They are from a TV show, two different movies and two episodes of NCIS season 7, old episodes (seasons 1-6) don't count since they happened in my sphere. Oh yeah, and one song, but you just have to know the band name for that one. The first person to submit them all correctly gets a oneshot on a subject of their choice so long as it's not slash or McGiva. :) (As to that, why are you reading this then?!)(Oh, suggestion for oneshot, I like getting in Tim's head.)**

**Done blabbing now. Thanks for the trip, guys, it's been great. (And all my steady reviewers, thanks so much. You know who you are.)**

Ch16. Happy Ending

Ziva David was not happy.

She squinted her eyes against the harsh desert sun, trying to remember what it was she had found beautiful about Tel Aviv. Ziva felt no attraction, no pull, to this city now. It seemed empty despite the bustle below her.

There was a slight chill in the air, from the coming winter- September faded into October which faded into November. She ignored this, standing now barefoot on the balcony clothed in a simple bathrobe, wet hair dripping onto the concrete in a crescent pattern. Physically, Ziva seemed healed; only a few marks reminded those who knew of the horrors she had endured both two and five months ago. Shadowed eyes, gaunt form, small scars concealed beneath her robe. Visible on her collarbone, beneath the base of her neck and the hollow of her throat, was a raw pink circular scar. A cigar burn, from when Hadar in anger had thrust his lit cigar into her flesh. Ziva flinched, remembering the pain and the defiance that had flashed in her eyes still.

Ziva was a broken woman now, though. No man would want her. Tony did not; her father told her after she recovered that her memory had been mistaken, fever dreams. She must have been dreaming, for it was her old partner Officer Ben-Gurion who had rescued her from Hadar. In a conversation with Ben-Gurion the seasoned Israeli warrior claimed DiNozzo had offered to _help_, but turned tail and run before the helicopter had even taken off.

"Come inside, child, before you catch a cold."

"Aba," Ziva murmured, not turning to face the white-haired man, simply clutching the handrail a little tighter.

She heard him take two steps forward and felt him place a hand on her shoulder. "Ziv," he said softly, using the masculine form of her name, which he often used as a respectful nod to her bravery. Also, the syllable was a biting reminder of the heartless warrior her father wanted her to be. "You cannot remain so bellicose forever. Your doctors told me you shut down yesterday, leaving in the middle of physical therapy and incapacitating the doctor who tried to reason with you."

Closing her eyes tightly, Ziva tried to drown out her body's overwhelming memory of the engulfing blackness, the terror. She had felt no sense of place except the cramped feeling of bonds, no sense of purpose except the memory bold defiance burning in her gut. "Aba, I wish to leave."

A self-deprecating chuckle told her he was not surprised. "It took you this long? The way you clutched at him, like a young child seeking a _security blanket_?" His voice dripped acid.

"Not to him," Ziva hissed sharply, tugging herself away from Eli David's grip. "Away from you and this haunted city."

**** Abby's Apartment, Washington, D.C.

Humming, the happy Goth prepared a meal for herself, her fiancé, and her fiancé's new best friend. She and Tim had decided on a long engagement, to allow the murmurs at NCIS to die down and Tony recuperate. Also, that way they could get married next Halloween. Abby shuffled between the stove and the counter, making the penne recipe that Ziva and Tony had concocted together. A lump rose in her throat as she thought of this.

Ziva and Tony. Tony and Ziva. The two had been inseparable since their undercover assignment as Jean-Paul and Sophie; that is, until they were separated. Thousands of miles, two government agencies, the military postal service and Jenny's death sat uncomfortably in the middle for three, almost four months. Then they were back, but not _back_, joined at the hip- or rather, lip- drive each other home back. And of course there was Rivkin's- really, Ziva? - and Tony's rivalry, plus thousands more miles, a terrorist and bad blood driving the wedge. Then Tony was back. They both knew they loved each other, but still Ziva left him. She left the whole team. And Tony got depressed, and nearly died thrice more before she was safe. Of course, by then he had some stupid, _stupid_ reason to leave, and they were separated again, this time seemingly irreparably so. What was a Goth to do?

The forensic guru let a heavy sigh press out of her lungs, looking longingly at the telephone. Ziva should have called her. Ziva had reason to be mad at Tony- well, not really but if Abby were Ziva she supposed she would be mad- but Ziva had _no_ right to punish Abby. Ziva had been out of contact for almost two months now. And Mossad had upgraded their security, so it was taking longer for Abby to hack than the last time. Abby leaned against the counter, head on one hand, propping them up, and stared at said phone.

Eyes narrowed, she willed it to ring.

_Rrring! Rrring!_

Shocked- and slightly scared to answer- Abby gingerly reached for the phone. "Sciuto-McGee residence."

"I missed something." The heady Israeli accent was too distinguishable to be anyone other than…

"Ziva?"

****

McGee shook his head at Tony, who was attempting to explain the laws of horror movies. "Never really been one for horror movies," he interrupted.

Tony shot the younger man a dirty look. "As I was saying, there are three rules. The sin factor: no drugs, no alcohol, and most importantly, _no sex_."

Tim snorted. "You'd be the first to go, Tony."

Tony looked semi-genuinely hurt for a moment before continuing. "Never, _ever_ say, I'll be right back. It's a deathwish."

Only half listening, Tim rummaged through his pockets. "I forgot my keys in the car." He smirked. "I'll be right back."

Tony gasped dramatically.

Chuckling, Tim walked back to his car and pulled his keys out of the glovebox. Tony had been upbeat lately… It was a welcome change from the depressed, mopey Tony that had followed Tim listlessly for a month or so after his return from Tel Aviv.

Tony DiNozzo…

Tim could remember barely a single time- no, revise that, not even a single time- when there wasn't some feminine force of nature directing Tony's life. Tony was a people-person, especially when doing the pleasing got a begrudging laugh from Kate or a sultry smile from Ziva. Once upon a lifetime, Tony's goal in life had been solely to impress Gibbs and make Abby laugh; Tim knew nothing about that Tony. The only Tony which Tim had known was the childish playboy who flirted with Kate constantly and obviously, the playboy who had gotten a reality check with one headshot, the playboy who had become a great investigator and- though Tony denied it- a one-woman man. Jeanne Benoit aside, since about two and a half years ago, Tony had stopped seeing… well… anybody. He went on dates, sure; still the tales of womanly flirtations were paraded through the bullpen for Tim's benefit. Nothing ever happened, though; Tim could tell.

McGee was friends with the side of Tony that nobody knew but maybe Gibbs. Tony was a caring person, certainly. He made attachments easily, which was why it hurt him so badly when the women he loved left. Kate. Paula. Jeanne. Now, Ziva. After each one he was more empty, more sullen than normal Tony; especially so after the four times he and Ziva had parted to supposedly never see one another again. The most recent time had hit DiNozzo the hardest. Through most of October Tony was a wraith, there but incorporeal. (Vance's edict had fallen through when Tony was at his desk the Monday after his return.) That left Tim as Senior Field Agent, a title which held no joy when its more vibrant possessor was so down. Gradually, after twice-weekly prescription dinners at the future McGee family residence, Tony opened back up both socially and professionally. Now DiNozzo was "back to health", as Abby put it, leaving Tim to put up with the headaches and sore ears he had come to appreciate. The things that Tony did… _usually_ held relevance to some aspect of life. Tonight, Tim was not exactly sure, but it was still nice to have chipper Tony back. He grinned, shaking the keys in Tony's direction then walked over. Both descended into the silence of friendship.

**** Approx. 6hr later ** Tony's apartment

One oh nine in the middle of the night.

Tony sighed, staring at the bottle of straight tequila that sat on his coffee table. He threw his head in his hands. Why could life not just be simple? Two hours ago, he had showered and suited down to his pajamas with the full intention of getting as good a night's sleep as he could. After all, he had just spent four hours with an unusually hyper and squeal Goth and her techno geek boyfriend.

Then he saw it.

Roughly a month and a half ago, Abby made Tony an offer he was not _allowed_ to refuse. Once a week or so she stopped by while Tony was still at work - he ran practically the same hours as Gibbs now- and cleaned his apartment. Due to the faintly sterilized smell and lack of dirty socks in his sink and dishes in his clothes hamper, today was a cleaning day.

Nosy Goth.

Now, where it had lain facedown for the better part of six months, was his ultimate favorite picture. Ziva standing at a newsstand in Georgetown, hair brushed back by a light wind.

****flashback: 2 years ago

Early February was, in Tony's perception, the best time of year. Snow still occasionally dusted the ground, the weather was a little more pleasant, and crime was… at least this year… moving slowly. Nothing more than a couple of petty thefts and a drunk and disorderly that Tony may or may not have instigated. These had only even gone to the MCRT because of a general lack of work around the office.

This, combined with a lack of excitement, made the team restless, so much so that by 0830 Gibbs was so sick of their antics, he sent them home. Tim went down to the lab, but Tony convinced Ziva to go out.

"Zi, please?" he begged shamelessly, making the puppy dog face he knew made her laugh. They were alone in the elevator, so his dignity was intact.

"You look ridiculous," she snorted, winding a fuchsia scarf around her tan neck.

"That's the point. Go to Georgetown with me." Tony leaned against the elevator door casually, still beseeching the Israeli with his eyes.

_Ding!_ WHUMP. Genius he was, Tony had forgotten that his prop would disappear when they reached the parking garage. "Ow," he complained, rubbing the back of his head.

Ziva snickered, walking forwards enough so that she was standing directly over him. "Fine. But only if we do what I want."

"Deal." Tony leapt up, rummaging for his camera as soon as he reached his car.

After the fact, he had thought it a bad deal, chasing after his favorite ninja as she shopped for clothes and used Tony as a shopping cart. At the time the only highlight was when she purposely came out of the dressing rooms in suggestive clothes that Gibbs would never let her wear to work. It was only later he realized how good some of the candid photographs had turned out.

****

Seeing her face again with such blissful innocence on it was enough to throw DiNozzo back down the hazy road of depression. He was forced to relive every bit of muscle tensing, head-banging, wired waiting, and every electrically charged second of watching, every adrenaline-pumping heartbeat of saving, and every pain-laced memory of fading. Two hours later he was having a staring contest with an unopened bottle of tequila.

How Tony longed to crack it open, drink himself into unawareness, let the alcohol wipe his mind clear. How he longed to ignore the past six months and pretend it was not true, just some sick nightmare.

People said it was better she was gone. People said it was better not to have the Mossad poking their noses into American business. People said he should not care. People knew shit.

His only recent actual conversation with Gibbs had been two months ago, in the car on the way back from the airport. Then Tony had felt hopeful. _"Maybe life can go back to normal now."_ As days progressed, Tony realized just how different normal had become since Ziva first stepped into his life four years ago. Now Tony knew that normal was a long, painful step away. Readjustment would take time.

At least Tim and Abby had each other. That was the hardest part of DiNozzo, being surrounded by hidden but constant love every day when his own chance was an ocean away. When Tony went to Gibbs' house at night, he pursued a childish fantasy of using the boat his and Gibbs' hands crafted to sail across that ocean and retrieve her. It was an improbable and pathetic fantasy, but one he clung to. For hope.

_Knock, knock._

Tony started at the unexpected noise. Who in the name of God's green earth would be calling at this hour?

Niggling in his mind was the memory of how Ziva came at the oddest of times. This could not be her, she was in Israel, so he pushed the niggle away.

Slowly and deliberately, he rose from the couch. Six steps and he stopped. Three steps towards the door. By sheer force of will he took them, setting his hand on the knob and turning. "For the love of God, if it's you, Tim…"

He shut up.

Ziva.

There was the briefest moment where his green eyes locked on her chocolate brown, and she was on him. Hands at his neck pulling him closer, body pressed tight, lips seeking his and begging for recognition. Tony gave it, lips responding to hers without thinking, arms snaking around her waist and pulling her as close as their clothes would allow. A full minute passed before he pulled away. "Ziva," he whispered, hands creeping up to hold her face.

"Let me stay," she responded huskily.

Tony's only response was to kiss her more gently, more slowly; less heat but more passion. As she responded Tony smiled, recalling a passage from one of his favorite movies. He was too tired and too busy to remember it exactly, but it ran something like this.

"_Of all the kisses, there were five ranked most passionate, most pure. This one blew them all away."_

When they both pulled away from the kiss Tony whispered, "As you wish."

****


End file.
